


They Were Roommates

by bos10blonde



Series: Cap Five and the Roommates [1]
Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: A Voice in The Dark, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Guns, Head Injury, Language, M/M, Mention of Character Death, Mild Language, Non-Mute Runner Five, She/her pronouns for Five, Speaking Runner Five, helicopter crash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26072848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bos10blonde/pseuds/bos10blonde
Summary: This is the beginning of my Five's journey through Zombies, Run! planned and written as I run it for the first time!A member of Mullins Base finds herself adopted as an Abel Township runner. What was supposed to be a temporary assignment becomes much, much more. Turns out even in the post-apocalypse, the world is full of friendship, betrayal, surprises, and maybe even love(?) as the remaining humanity comes together to survive. Just what...and who...will Five find in store for her in this new world?A million thanks to crownleys and puptart on the Discord who were kind enough to edit my first ever fic (Listening in the Dark) and suggested I flesh out Five's roommates. I don't think this is, uh, quite what you meant, but I am having so much fun!
Series: Cap Five and the Roommates [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005711
Comments: 61
Kudos: 17





	1. Arrival at Abel

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my live playthrough! I'm writing this as I run through ZR for the first time, from the perspective of my Five (dubbed Cap Five) and playing mostly in the spaces between missions. Everything is live reactions, although I've planned out arcs for the OCs, so we'll all find out where this story will go together!
> 
> This fic is intended to be canon-friendly, but since it’s heavy on the OCs, it’s thus not canon-compliant. I’ve rearranged Abel Township’s layout and will be playing with timelines to suit the story occasionally. Each chapter will state which missions it covers or falls between. The author is running through the app for the first time while writing, so any other spoilers, canon divergences, or resemblance to other characters are unintentional. 
> 
> Content warnings for all chapters: canon-typical injuries and peril from zombies, mild language.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Runner Five has arrived in Abel Township after a supply mission gone sideways. First things first: get checked out by the doc and introduced to her roommates for her time in Abel.
> 
> Takes place directly after S1M1.
> 
> Content warnings: Mention of the helicopter crash, oblique references to injury and concussion

_Day 1 in Abel Township_

Cora walked towards the front gate, cradling a bedroll against her hip. It wasn’t hard to find who she was looking for—in a township as small as Abel, any new face stood out. Earlier that day Evan had asked if Cora and Rowan, two reliable Abel Township runners (who also happened to have a bunk free in their room), would be willing to host a guest from Mullins for a few days, and Cora wasn't about to let him down. Before long, Cora spotted an unfamiliar blonde talking with Maxine outside the medical tent and waved as she crossed the main yard towards them. The newcomer was listening intently to Dr. Meyers, who was clearly listing something off rapid-fire.

“Oh, good, here’s Cora now,” Cora heard Dr. Myers say as she drew close. “She’ll show you around – she really knows the lay of the land around here.”

The newcomer turned to Cora and offered a handshake. “Hi, I’m—well, I guess I’m Runner Five now, so that or Five will be fine.” Cora noticed Five had the kind of general American accent familiar from Pre-Z blockbuster movies, voice pitched high in cheerful politeness despite the shadows of fatigue beneath her grey eyes.

Cora returned the handshake enthusiastically. “My name’s Cora—Runner Nine, it’s so nice to meet you! I think the whole township’s heard about your dramatic entrance with our latest supply drop by now…We’re all so glad you made it out okay.” Five gave a short laugh that was more of a wry acknowledgment than an expression of amusement, but smiled a little wider.

Maxine addressed both women with final instructions, handing Five a small bag of basic painkillers. “Cora, if you don’t mind—just keep an eye on her, she may not be feeling all her injuries after a crash like that, although I haven’t seen anything worrying yet…Five, just get some sleep and come back tomorrow morning, alright?” Five nodded and angled her head away from Cora to smooth down the edges of a square bandage on her left temple. Beyond that and a bandage-wrapped left elbow, Cora was surprised at how relatively unscathed Five looked, based on the story that was making its way around Abel township.

“We’ll take good care of her, Dr. Myers,” Cora assured her. “If you’re ready, I’ll show you to the runner’s quarters,” she said to Five, who nodded again and looked in the direction Cora indicated, raising one hand in farewell to Dr. Myers as the two turned away.

Cora talked rapidly as she led Five down a packed-earth path between several sheet-metal buildings. “So, there’s two of us in the room already: me and Rowan, Runner Twenty-Two…she should be there already, you’ll meet her in a minute. Sorry if that’s a little crowded, but Abel isn’t exactly sprawling. Though, I guess if you’re from Mullins you might be used to it? Do they have you all in barracks and bunks and such? Oh—these are your bedsheets, fresh from the laundry.” Cora indicated the bundle she was carrying and glanced back at Five, who was only a pace behind but taking two steps to each of the much taller Cora’s ones. Cora slowed slightly and pointed to their left as they moved on. “That’s the runner’s meeting hall, there…they’re going to have you be a runner while you’re here, is that right? Since they’re calling you Runner Five and all?”

“I definitely can,” Five replied uncertainly. “I’m not sure what the plan for me is, exactly.”

“Well, I’m sure Janine will know,” Cora said reassuringly, “Besides, we’re hard up for runners at the moment.” Cora had no idea what would happen now, either, but it was getting late and she didn’t want to pry. Mullins personnel only ever stayed long enough to supervise the offloading of supplies and maybe grab a meal before heading back. Then again, none of their helicopters had ever been shot down before.

“Cafeteria’s across the yard, we can stop by and grab you something packaged if you’re hungry—do you have any more clothes in your bag?” For the rest of the walk to the barracks, Cora barely paused to draw breath as she pointed out the rec yard, comms shack, and community center.

As they passed under an old streetlight buzzing to life under the descending twilight, Cora stole another sideways look at her guest. Cora’s first impression was that Five was _tiny_ – the runner couldn’t be more than five feet tall, and her plain black backpack pack was nearly bigger than her torso. Five certainly wasn’t the battle-hardened soldier Cora had initially pictured as a helicopter crash survivor; she was of an average build that spoke of good fitness but not unusual strength training. She wore a one-size-too-large grey shirt with MULLINS across the chest in unimaginative black block letters over navy biker shorts. Several rips and tears in the fabric up her right side served as obvious evidence of the crash, and Cora thought she caught a flash of more bandages around ribcage level. Besides the battle damage, there was nothing that would immediately identify her or make her stand out.

Five seemed to notice Cora’s examination at this point and tugged her medium-length ash-blonde ponytail from where it had snagged under the pack, smoothing down stray wisps of hair. Cora quickly resumed her tour narration.

Although she didn’t talk much during the walk, Five didn’t look as nervous or disoriented as one might have expected. She paid close attention to Cora’s directions, scrutinizing important landmarks they passed. The pair collected a few curious looks from people milling around the township – fresh faces really were an unusual sight these days – but if Five noticed, she ignored them. She followed closely behind and hugged one wall as Cora finally led her through the narrow hallways of the brick building that served as the runner’s quarters.

“So…this is your new room!” Cora said brightly, gesturing at a stenciled 42 on the door in a mock game show hostess pose. Some of the doors lining the hallway were mismatched, clearly installed at different times. This one was particularly distinctive, painted a deep emerald with a slightly weathered surface that suggested it had once been an exterior door. “Remember, it’s pretty simple from the main entrance—a left, then a right, and we’re about halfway down. Toilets are at the end of the hall there, and I can show you to the showers once you’ve dropped off your things.” Cora rapped on the door with her knuckles before opening, calling out, “Rowan! We’ve got company!”

After a vague noise in response, Cora pushed open the thin wooden door. The left and right walls of the room were mostly taken up by a bunk bed each, with a squat dresser on the left and a salvaged chair on the right of the door forming tiny sitting area. On the bottom bunk on the left, an athletic-looking girl with close-cropped hair cut sat up on her elbows from where she’d been lounging on her stomach. There was no mattress on the bunk above her, so the single hanging lightbulb cast a grid of shadows on her freckled face when she leaned forward to get a look at the newcomer.

“Heya,” she said neutrally, although not unfriendly. “I’m guessing you’re the Mullins runner that got shot outta the sky?”

“Rowan!” Cora chided. “A little tact, perhaps?”

Five gave another short, not-quite-a-laugh and followed Cora into the room. “It’s fine,” she said. “I mean, it certainly wasn’t your _typical_ supply mission. Sorry to cause you all so much trouble.”

Rowan shrugged. “No such thing as a typical supply mission these days. Glad you made it out alright. At least, you seem to be in one piece.”

“I think so!” Five said brightly. “The doctor says there’s a chance of a concussion? But it’s hard to tell. Doesn’t feel like the last one, anyway.”

Rowan stared at Five quizzically and with a little alarm, but no explanation was immediately forthcoming. Changing the subject, Cora clapped her hands together softly, drawing the attention of the other two.

“Okay, so…right now both of the top bunks are free, although I can swap with you if you’d prefer a bottom bunk,” Cora set Five’s bedroll on the chair to the right side of the door and evaluated the bunks intently with her hands on her hips. “There’s only one mattress left, though, so maybe the right bunk—Oh, wait! I forgot the ladder on my side is broken— okay, we can move the mattress from there over to above Rowan. Hold on—”

Five was already moving towards the currently unoccupied bunk on the right. The plank that has served as a step between the headboards of the bottom and top bunks had been snapped off at some point, leaving only about a hands’ width of jagged-edged chunks of wood on either side. After a momentary pause, Five swung her pack around to hang off her left shoulder and hopped up onto the bottom board.

“Nah, this’ll be fine. It’s not worth all the effort to move the mattress over,” she said, placing her weight on one small foot on what remained of the left side of the broken plank. Cora took a startled step forward, but Five had already hauled herself up and disappeared over the top headboard. It seemed like maneuvering her pack over the last ledge was the hardest part of the process. After a moment, Five popped back into view, kneeling and grinning at Cora from the top of the ladder. “Yeah, this works!” She paused, noticing Cora’s half-raised arms, and laughed brightly for the first time. “Ah, thanks! You’re so sweet. But I’ll be fine climbing up.”

Across the room, Rowan snorted loudly at Cora’s befuddled expression. “If you fall off trying to get down in the middle of the night, don’t say we didn’t warn you,” she called upwards.

“Are you sure you—wait, can you sit up _straight_ up there?” Cora asked as she handed up Five’s bedroll. Five, now sitting comfortably cross-legged in the three feet of space between mattress and ceiling as she set her bag in one corner, nodded brightly. Cora shrugged. “Guess you’re best suited to the top bunk, after all, Five.”

“Is that really what you want to be called?” Rowan asked, finally standing to grab a spare pillow from beside the dresser and toss it corner-over-corner up to Five’s bed. Since she hadn’t actually given a warning, it bounced off the side of Five’s head. Five winced slightly and Rowan grimaced an apology.

“Yeah, my name’s Rachel, but I don’t go by it much these days, anyway. ‘Runner Five’ or ‘Five’’ll probably be easier for everyone, so you don’t have to learn a new name,” Five said offhandedly over the unzipping of her backpack.

After a moment of rummaging, she swung her legs back over the ledge of the top bunk to sit at the top of the ladder. “Sorry to ask, but could one of you show me where I can fill my canteen? Dr. Myers gave me these painkillers to take…And maybe the showers?”

Cora practically leaped from her bed, newly concerned. “Oh! Of course! I can fill that for you! Do you feel okay? Does your head hurt? Should we turn out the lights?”

“Hey, Cora, I bet if you ask her a bunch more questions, she’ll magically be healed from _literally getting shot out of the sky_ ,” Rowan snarked, turning back to write something on a densely-packed notebook page.

Cora rolled her eyes at Rowan but stepped back to let Five jump slightly inelegantly down the ladder with a small bundle of drab clothes cradled against her chest. “Rowan, maybe you could at least make space in a drawer for Five’s things?”

Five looked slightly embarrassed. “Thanks, but that’s really not needed—I’m only supposed to be here a little while before I go back to Mullins. You shouldn’t trouble yourselves.”

Cora waved a hand in reassurance, but Five just shrugged with an apologetic expression. Cora dropped it, handed Five a clean towel from the top of the dresser, and led her back into the hallway. This was Runner Five’s first night in Abel Township, and even if she wasn’t going to be here long, Cora was determined to make her feel as comfortable and welcomed as possible.


	2. Put Through the Paces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rowan takes the new Runner Five to her first training session as an Abel Township runner.
> 
> Takes place before S1M3. Content warnings: Mild mentions of previous injury, lots of running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the huge gap between chapters. As you can probably tell, I got sidetracked by a few other projects. The next section is, for once, clearly planned out, so hopefully it won't be as long next time.
> 
> This chapter is largely Rowan's introduction. Hope you enjoy!

_Day 3 in Abel Township_

It was a clear, cool morning at Abel Township. It was perfect weather for running, and the cramped rec yard of hard-packed dirt hummed with activity. It was no more than a soccer field’s worth of space between a few brick buildings and hastily constructed corrugated iron shacks. Still, it was a central hub for the runners of Abel township. A few runners jogged around the desire-path oval that served as a track, warming up for the first round of missions of the day.

In the scrubby grass in the center, a middle-aged, barrel-chested man led a rough line of runners through a series of stretches. Most chatted idly as they followed the familiar routine. However, a few younger faces clustered in the back row were set in nervous determination. Almost everyone had a number displayed on their person—scrawled on the back of a T-shirt in thick black marker, boldly embroidered onto brightly-colored armbands, or neatly printed on a large card pinned to a pack. There was a comfortable fraternity in the air that almost softened an undercurrent of grim purpose.

Rowan, Cora, and Five emerged from the runners’ quarters and began to walk around the outside of the track. Rowan energetically stretched her arms and rolled neck as she walked, lifting her knees higher with each step than strictly necessary. Cora yawned, exhausted just watching her, while Five still appeared to be taking everything in quietly. When the stretching group dispersed, the man who had been leading them headed straight for the trio.

“The new Runner Five, I assume. I’m Evan, also known around here as Runner Seven,” The towering man extending a solid hand for Five to shake. His voice was deep, and his demeanor unshakeable; it was easy to see why he seemed to be running things.

“I’m told you’ll be earning your keep running with us. Don’t worry, we care about our people here, so we’ll get you trained up before sending you out on your own. First off: at Mullins, did they have you specialize in any particular style?”

Five shifted her weight from one small foot to the other, looking uncomfortable. “I, uh…they sent me out to bring supplies in a lot, so I’m pretty used to heavy packs...” Five trailed off and shrugged opaquely.

“Well,” Evan said, noting the pause, “Based on what Sam and Dr. Myers told me, you were able to hold your own out there, and we could use all the bodies we can get after that warehouse fire. Unless Janine or the Major find a specific place to put you, it can’t hurt to have you run with us while you’re waiting for transport back to Mullins.”

Five nodded, looking slightly embarrassed as Evan continued. Rowan looked at her sideways. Why did she seem so confused? Everyone in camp had heard about the arrival of a new runner.

“Usually I’d run some diagnostic trials with you, find out where your strengths lie, but I’m scheduled for a mission now, so we’ll have to wait until—”

“I can run her through the tests!” Rowan interrupted. Evan raised his eyebrows slightly as Rowan barreled on. “Come _on_ —you _know_ I know the trials inside out by now. I can take her through them, take her splits and stats and everything!” Rowan straightened her posture, trying her best to look unquestionably confident.

“I suppose that would be fine,” Evan agreed, although held up a hand in warning. “Don’t overdo it, Twenty-Two. Dr. Myers hasn’t cleared her yet. Oh, Runner Nine – Would you mind coming with me first? There’s a new route I’d like to try today, and I thought to compare notes with you first.”

Rowan rocked back on her heels in victory, wearing a wide, devious grin and her hands on her hips. “Don’t worry, Five,” Rowan crowed. “I’ll put you through your paces. We’ll see what you’re really made of!”

Cora suppressed a chuckle she walked with Evan towards the briefing room. She knew that expression on Rowan’s face, and it didn’t bode well for Five’s upcoming workout.

Drawing herself up into coach mode, Rowan led Five over to a set of small cones set up to indicate the start and end of a lap around the improvised track. She instructed Five to stretch while she jogged off to grab a small whiteboard and marker from the table outside the shack that served as a briefing room. When she came back, Five was dutifully leaning into a basic hip flexor stretch.

“Alright,” Rowan began officiously, busily drawing a chart onto the whiteboard labeled “Lap,” “Split,” and “Total.” “First thing we’ll do is have you run a mile, record your splits and total time. We’ve gotta see where you rank in terms of speed so that Evan can match you into groups.”

Rowan noticed Five had stopped mid-stretch and was looking at Rowan with an expression of trepidation.

“I’m not really sure when the last time I was timed running—” Five began, her voice high and the words practically rushing together.

“Oh, don’t be nervous—really, it’s not like there’s strict points difference between them or anything. As long as you can outrun the zombies, you’ll make it as a runner. We _do_ keep a leaderboard of the fastest times, but we can have you do that later.” Rowan tried to sound casual and reassuring as she added, “It took me almost a month after I became a runner to make the time that got _me_ on the board.”

Rowan tilted her head towards a noticeboard behind them, above where she had gotten the whiteboard from. There was a corkboard behind a thin sheet of clear plastic, and some sort of list of names and times was prominently displayed. Once Rowan was satisfied Five had taken note, she clapped her hands in front of her.

“Alright, you ready to get started?”

Rowan took up position by the starting cones, closely watching Five’s form and calling out occasional encouragements. For what it was worth, Five seemed to be giving it her all. Her face was drawn into an almost angry expression, eyes fixed straight ahead, pale complexion gradually flushing into a medium pink.

Watching the clock above the noticeboard, Rowan diligently took down each lap time and calculated the total. With each passing lap, Rowan’s confidence grew. Runner Five may have made a stir, but she wasn’t breaking any speed records today. In fact, the longer Rowan watched, the more she could see it—Five’s running form was rough, untrained, uncomfortable. There was too much arm swing, she kept dropping her head, was she crossing her feet in front of her?

Rowan could help. She’d studied proper running form for so long, for speed and economy of movement. Just a few exercises to start with—it had only been a mile so far, surely a little bit more wouldn’t be too much to handle.

Five finished her mile with a perfectly respectable if not impressive time, slowing to a stop, holding one hand over one hip as she circled back to Rowan. Rowan handed her the whiteboard so Five could see her times. Five frowned at the numbers, seeming frustrated, and glanced up at Rowan as if to gauge her reaction.

“So, uh…Is this going to be good enough to be a runner?” she asked when her breath had fully returned.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Rowan replied reassuringly, taking the whiteboard from Five. “There’re a few more things I want to have you do first—to get a full, diagnostic picture, of course.”

“Okay…yeah, sure!” Five said after a pause, flashing a suspiciously cheerful smile.

Thus began Rowan’s very first testing and training session. Rowan called out instructions and demonstrated drills; 200-meter sprint, now 400; now let’s try some agility drills; let’s see what your footwork is like…Five followed every instruction, even as Rowan’s corrections grew more frequent. Rowan stopped having Five run up the bleacher steps as she passed by after Five slipped on her way down and nearly fell on her face. Almost an hour had gone, and the two were still going at it, although Five had noticeably slowed.

“Are you running, or are you boxing?” Rowan called out the next time Five passed by the finish line. “Keep your hands down!”

“Huh?” Five yelled back eloquently, turning to look over one shoulder but still running.

Rowan broke into an easy jog to catch up. “Look, you’ve got your arms held so tight your hands are practically at your shoulders. You’re just gonna waste energy that way—unless you’re actually gonna punch a zom in the face, keep your hands down, near your hips.”

Five looked over and adjusted her arms to hang lower. Now, though, she was holding them immobile, and she looked vaguely uncomfortable.

“No, look—shake out both your arms,” Rowan instructed. “Keep them almost limp. You need blood going to your legs right now. Try to keep everything as relaxed as possible when you’re running.”

Five obeyed, rolling her shoulders and shaking out her arms and wrists. Her posture improved a little, although the tight set of her jaw did not speak of a relaxed person.

The two continued like that for a while. Rowan had abandoned the whiteboard by now and alternated between jogging alongside Five watching from the end of a straightaway to watch her form. Before long, Five’s sprints were the same speed as her running, which had dropped to the same rate as her jogging. It had been almost an hour and a half now, and her energy was clearly flagging.

“Alright, Five,” Rowan called. “I’m gonna get us some water, and we can take another break. Take one more lap at a jog…and focus on opening up that stride!”

Five made a quick “Okay” gesture and kept moving, head bowed slightly. Rowan had made it halfway over to the battered water cooler when a looming figure stepped into her path.

“Runner Twenty-Two!” Evan said sharply, forehead still dotted with sweat from his run. “Have you been running Five this entire time?”

Rowan stopped dead, surprised at his tone. “Yeah—we did all the diagnostic trials, I’ve got everything on the whiteboard over there. She’s untrained, for sure. She’s not very fast, either—I’m sure with some training we can bring her speed up, don’t get me wrong. But she may not be ready for—”

“She may not be ready,” Evan cut in, “for an hour and a half of tests and—what, I assume sprints?” Rowan nodded at Evan’s withering questioning look. “For an hour and a half of _sprints_ without _medical clearance_ after a _helicopter crash._ Rowan, are you even aware injuries may not manifest themselves until days after a trauma?”

Rowan blanched. She’d known that, of course, but she hadn’t been thinking about it. She felt a sharp remark rise to the back of her throat and bit it back. She didn’t dare jeopardize her standing with Evan any more than she might have already.

“She said she was fine every time I asked,” she said lamely instead. “And, look, if we’re going to get her fast enough to be a runner, we need to get her—”

“Being fast isn’t all there is, Rowan,” Evan said, speaking a little more gently at the penitent look on Rowan’s face. “If she just survived over an hour of one of your workouts…she may the endurance for long missions. Especially if she hadn’t actually been trained before.”

Rowan blinked. Evan was right, of course. Rowan had just gotten so caught up in the competition and figuring out what made this new arrival so special…she hadn’t been thinking at all. She glanced over at Five, who had finished and had moved off to the side for some stretching.

Evan let Rowan go with only a couple more sharp remarks, and Rowan sheepishly returned to her trainee. Five had flopped to lay on the ground with one forearm thrown over her eyes, breathing still accelerated. One side of her shirt had ridden up slightly above the hip, and Rowan could see the edge of a bandage plastered to Five’s side. Rowan felt a slight pang. Five really did look tired, and Rowan hadn’t even thought about her injuries.

Rowan leaned down and tapped Five’s wrist. When Five didn’t move away, Rowan grasped her wrist and lifted it slightly away from Five’s face. Five scowled into the bright mid-morning sunlight.

“What, tired already?” Rowan asked, trying to maintain what she hoped was a stern, coach-like expression.

“Um,” Five said, squinting harder. “The sun’s just bright.”

“Great!” Rowan smirked. “I thought we could try some sprint ladders next!”

Five groaned loudly but pulled her knees up and propped herself up on one elbow. She gave Rowan an almost plaintive look, and Rowan burst into laughter, unable to keep up the front anymore. She rotated her grip on Five’s wrist and helped pull the smaller girl to her feet before letting her go.

“It’s alright, I’m just kidding. Try not to look so pathetic,” Rowan said, trying to channel some of Cora’s encouraging style, despite the words. “You did good. That was…kind of a lot for a first workout. Let’s go get some lunch—food is as important as training, y’know. Besides—”

Rowan caught sight of Evan and Dr. Meyers rounding the corner of a building to enter the rec yard. Evan seemed to be explaining something off of the whiteboard Rowan had handed him earlier—and Dr. Myers had a very familiar half-scowl on her face. Rowan ushered Five ahead of her between the nearest set of buildings, motioning for her to hurry.

“We’d better get going before Dr. Meyers sees me, she’d gonna scold me for, like, an hour for having you out here for so long.”

Five laughed. “She could just as well get mad at me for going along with it,” she pointed out.

“Well, then, we should really move it then, huh?” Rowan asked, glancing back over her shoulder as the pair headed for the next block of buildings. “Wanna race?”

Five groaned. “ _Absolutely_ not.”


	3. Runner's Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Runner Ninteen shows Runner Five the ropes and explains the concept of the Runner's Right, a critical part of runner culture in Abel. 
> 
> Takes place between S1M3 and M4. 
> 
> Content warnings: language, peril from zombies, peril from nettles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this took literal months for me to update, but in that time, this work went from 5 quick one-shots about Five and her roommates to a structured plan (complete with red-string diagrams) of an entire playthrough arc. So basically, this fic is now infinite, with arcs and everything! I don't know what's happened but I'm loving it.
> 
> Five is out on one of her first missions outside the walls of Abel! In this universe, the 5k trainer is not a thing (because I didn't run it).
> 
> Runner's Right was also featured by DreamerNumber3 in the (thankfully!) ongoing comfort blanket of a fic: Shuffle, Run, Repeat! Thank you so much to listening to me overthink worldbuilding details!

_Day 9 in Abel Township_

Five kept trying to push herself to run faster, but staying even with her much taller roommate was proving impossible—Cora had a good ten inches of height on Five’s diminutive (and coincidental) five feet. Even after trying to open up her stride, Five was sure she was taking two steps to each of Cora’s. Cora was about three yards ahead of Five now, her ponytail of tight panther-black curls and half-full blue backpack jostling with each impact of sneaker on asphalt.

Five marveled enviously at Cora’s smooth, easy movements. She looked totally comfortable running, while Five felt like a pile of separate, disjointed parts moving inelegantly. She was still getting used to running this far and often. Case in point: Five realized focusing on her legs had distracted her from her breathing. Five tried to wrangle her inhales into an even rhythm and listen more attentively to Cora’s constant commentary. Cora certainly didn’t seem to have any trouble with airflow.

“…be running this way pretty much any time you’re on a supply run to the northeast,” Cora was saying. “It’s a country road, so still pretty much paved, and the fields make for good sightlines. Just have to rely on Sam watching the wheat fields from above in the fall.” Cora turned to look back at Five for acknowledgment, bringing the yellow armband on her right bicep into full view as it stood out beautifully against Cora’s dark skin.

A thick black number “19” was inked onto the fabric in the same style as Five’s own “5” armband. Cora also had her number painted across the front of her running shirt, but since Five was still running in a spare black T-shirt she’d had when she arrived, the yellow ring of fabric tied snug against one bicep was the only thing declaring her affiliation with Abel. Cora had explained it was common to have runners in teams wear matching-colored armbands, so Sam could pick them out more easily on the cameras.

Speaking of—Sam’s voice broke into Five’s distracted train of thought from her headset.

“Yeah, no need to worry about keep an eye on the fields, Five. We’ve got all the most popular routes to and from Abel covered in cameras,” he said proudly. “Actually, you’re coming up on one pretty soon here, on…your guys’ left, about fifty meters away.”

Cora nodded and pointed at a tree up ahead. “It’s in that birch there, about two-thirds of the way up. Wave hello to Sam!”

Five was suddenly very concerned with her running form.

Head up, straight spine, arms loose…a former cross country coach’s nickname of “angry eyes” came to mind. Five pushed the brim of her red baseball cap up above the top of her vision and tried for an easy smile in the direction of a camera she absolutely could not see.

“Hi, guys!” Sam chirped in response, but Cora wasn’t fooled.

“This way,” Cora called, veering off the potholed asphalt and towards the small stand of trees. “It’s useful to learn the camera positions and landmarks early on.”

Five followed Cora, picking her way across uneven grass on the balls of her feet. She squinted upwards, searching for anything out of place, when she felt a gently savage stabbing sensation at one ankle.

“Shhhhhhhhit!” Five hissed, leaping forward in an instinct of panic before twisting around to see what she had run into. No zombie, for sure—she couldn’t see anything but a swath of various spiky-leaved weeds.

Cora had reached the base of the trees and stopped to look back at Five. “Did you twist your ankle?” she asked with concern. “Sorry, I should have warned you to watch out for holes.”

“No,” Five replied, slowing to a stop next to Cora and examining her left ankle. “Feels like an insect sting, it kind of burns.”

Cora peered over Five’s head—literally, the shorter runner noticed—to examine their path. “Ah, I think you just hit some nettles.”

Five looked at her dubiously. “Are they thorny? I don’t see any scratches.”

“No, they just—they just sting and itch if you touch them. Like poison ivy.”

Five exaggerated an exasperated sigh, straightening up from examining the scattered pink pinpricks arising on her skin. “So in England, not only do you have zoms, but you’ve got your own evil plants all over the place? We _definitely_ didn’t have nettles in Boston.”

Cora laughed. “Don’t worry, we’ll find you some dock leaves. They’ll take the sting right out.”

Five was absolutely baffled now, but had finally managed to catch a flash of sunlight on metal from the corner of one eye. She pointed into the branches above, eager to change the subject. “Is that the camera?”

“Yeah, that’s me—I mean, it!” Sam chuckled. “You can’t see, but I’m waving at you.”

Five smiled at the mental image of Sam gesturing at a screen and waved back.

“Hey, Sam, I think I remember some dock plants a little way back,” Cora said. “Do you think we can double back and grab them? Might as well bring back a few if the nettles are creeping this close to the road.”

“Let me check…” Sam trailed off for a moment, considering.

“No, really, it’s fine, it’s not a big deal—” Five tried to protest, but she may as well have been muted for all the attention Sam and Cora paid her.

Acutely aware now that she was being watched, Five did her best to look casually energetic and not poke at her still-burning ankle. She and Cora had been running for almost forty minutes now, and Five could feel her body starting to protest. Until last week, she’d only been used to running half an hour a few times a month, just enough to stay on top of routine fitness tests. Now Janine had her training up to run a few hours every other day, like the other long-haul runners—at least, if she didn’t go back to Mullins, Five reminded herself.

“There’s a few zoms out to the west of there, but if you’re quick, they should be far enough away they won’t bother you,” Sam concluded at last. “Just make sure you come straight back after, there’s another round of missions starting soon, and I’ve only got so many channels to work with.”

Cora set off, and Five had no choice but to follow. She tried to convince herself that at least a long run would help with training.

Five wished she’d just kept quiet if it was going to cause this much fuss over something so minor.

After five minutes of backtracking—and some back and forth between Cora and Sam on identifying half-remembered local flora—Cora was busily yanking plants out of the ground while Five sheepishly rubbed a small leaf against her leg. She had no idea if this would work, but the patch of pink welts was irritating enough to give it a shot. Besides, she’d had to practically swat Cora off from trying to do it for her.

“Ah—Runner Nine, Runner Five?” Sam broke in suddenly. “I think you’re going to have to leave the foraging ‘til later. Runner Twenty-Two has picked up a few fast zoms, and she’s got to head in your direction to shake them. Better get moving before any of them catch up with you.”

“Copy!” Five barked into her headset automatically, dropping what she was doing.

“Rowan? How close are they?” Cora asked quickly, bolting without hesitation in what Five trusted was the right direction. Five snatched up Cora’s backpack from where it was sitting on the ground nearby and slung one strap over a shoulder.

“Don’t worry, she’ll be fine, but we want to keep you all spread out as much as possible.” Sam responded confidently.

Over the loud thrumming of adrenaline in her ears, Five managed to be impressed with Sam’s professionalism while juggling multiple missions. She could think of plenty of times such situational awareness could have been useful pre-Z. Five keyed her mic on to thank hum briefly before foucusing on the uneven path ahead.

Cora and Five set off, tracing a well-marked alternate route back towards Abel. Sam had gone quiet, probably guiding Rowan, and Five kept looking over her shoulder to see if she could make out any figures behind them.

“Don’t look back. You’ll just slow down.” Cora told her, although she’d been doing the same. “Here, I’ll take my backpack; it must be heavy carrying both.” 

Five shook her head, tugging at straps from her own bag that ran horizontally across her chest and hips. “Weight distribution. I can hardly feel my own bag.” Five paused for breath, the fast pace a little more than she was comfortable with yet. She checked that her mic was muted, weirdly self-conscious about panting into the comms channel. “Besides…You’re faster…You can loop back to help Rowan easier if you don’t have a bag.”

“Or draw them off us,” Cora agreed casually, as if that was a normal thing to have to do on a mission.

Five got a distinct feeling that maybe that was a normal thing now. She pushed her legs to churn a little faster.

“No need for any distractions.” Sam broke in. “Twenty-Two’s fast; she’s dropped them already. I’ve opened the channel to her too. You may all get back around the same time—that’ll be kind of nice, won’t it? The roommates all coming home together.”

“‘The roommates?’” Rowan’s materialized in Five’s ear, causing Five to glance backward again. “As opposed to any other set of runners? You know we all bunk together, Sam.”

Five listened to the Sam and her roommates chatter comfortably the rest of the way to the township.

They made it back to Abel without further incident. Just as Sam had predicted, Rowan burst through the gates shortly after them. She was sweating slightly, and Five wondered if Rowan had been trying to catch up to them from—what, almost a mile back? Five suppressed a brief sense of disappointment at the reminder of how fast she still wasn’t.

Rowan jogged up to greet them, still clearly amped from outrunning the shambling dead. “Hi, Cora! Hey, Five—I swear, I could see that red cap of yours from a half-mile off. What do your splits look like today?”

“Uh…well it was about, what, close to an hour’s running total? Lots of stopping, though. I don’t know how far it was…”

The trio discussed their respective runs as they handed in their headsets and headed towards a tiny tarp-sided tent for a post-run medical screening. When they were done, Five asked Cora what to do with the supplies they’d collected.

“Last time, Evan just took them,” she explained. “Do we just drop our bags somewhere?”

Cora led Five to a stall near the bite check rooms where a bored-looking young man was waiting. Cora, ever excited to host, launched into an explanation.

“You’ll drop any supplies you collect here after every run, no matter how much or little you’ve got. We all have to turn out our bags and pockets entirely, so nobody tries to sneak anything. The rations monitors give us back our own gear after—if you’re carrying something personal, be sure to keep track—and they’ll take care of inventory. So once you’ve handed everything off and chosen your Runner’s Right, you’re free to hit the showers.”

For what felt like the fifth time today, Five gave Cora a quizzical look. Abel certainly had a very structured operation for what Mullins had led her to believe was a small group of survivors huddled around a farm.

“I don’t know what that is,” Five said instead.

“You get to keep one thing,” Rowan cut in as she bounded up behind them and loudly dropped a small backpack on the table on top of the man’s checklist. The man looked at Cora in the resigned sort of way that meant he’d seen this many times before. “Not food or medicine or anything valuable, obviously.”

Cora nodded. “It’s actually a brilliant system. At first, you’d think it would be best to just hand everything over, split things evenly between everyone in Abel, right? But what if you’ve really been wanting some new scented candles or something? Only you can’t ignore all the tinned peaches in the store to pick up a bunch of candles, so you have a chance of getting one.”

“Canned peaches sound so good right now,” Five muttered, switching unconsciously to the Americanism as she started handing over packs of batteries and bottles of water. When Five pulled out not one but two axes from her bag, the monitor’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his shaggy brown bangs.

“With Runner’s Right,” Cora continued. “You can pick up one candle and know it’ll be yours, and then fill the rest of your bag with useful things without being distracted. Win-win all around!”

“Besides,” Rowan said, taking back her empty bag. “We risk our necks to get the stuff. We should get to keep something.” She waved over her shoulder at her roommates as she headed in the direction of the shower building. “Have fun with Miss Expo Dump, Five,” she snickered.

Cora rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it helps with that too. People might be tempted to pocket things otherwise or might start to resent other people getting the supplies they picked up.”

Five was really impressed. Back in Mullins, it would just be assumed that all supplies were to be handed over, no questions asked.

“So…” the monitor asked. “What do you want to claim? If you don’t want to keep anything, you can waive your Runner’s Right and stack for up to three items per mission. We’ll keep track for you.”

Five examined the items left on the table that hadn’t already been sorted into official piles. She hadn’t been planning on keeping anything. Five was supposed to be learning the running routes, so they hadn’t actually gone into more than a petrol station looking for supplies.

“Go on, Five,” Cora urged after a moment. “It’s your first chance at a Runner’s Right. You should have _something_ to remember it by.”

After some deliberation, Five picked up a small tube of lip balm. She’d swept an entire small shelf of painkillers and cough drops at the station, and this must have been among them. The tiny yellow label boasted promised the user vague benefits from various butters and oils and a sweet vanilla scent, but it seemed like as good a memento as mouthwash strips or bobby pins. Five held it up for accountability. Cora looked a little dubious, but Five seemed proud enough that she didn’t say anything. Five slipped the small tube of plastic into the side pocket of her running shorts, feeling as if she’d acquired a totem.

Five waited until Cora finished sorting her supplies, waiving her own Runner’s Right for today, before the pair walked together towards the showers. Five wondered if she should feel guilty for something. Evan had told her a couple of days ago that Mullins wouldn’t be sending another helicopter to bring her back, so technically she was supposed to be part of Abel now, but Five still felt unsettled. She hadn’t actually been assigned to Mullins, either, and they’d certainly shipped her out fast enough. Who was to say how long she’d be allowed to stay?

Five and Cora reached the small yard around the shower building where Rowan was finishing up a round of stretches. Stopping nearby to join her, Five dismissed her wandering thoughts. She’d deal with the question of where she was going to end up when the time came.

Five decided to wonder what was for dinner instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up in Cap Five (because of the baseball cap, get it?) and the Roommates: Five and Sam meet in person for the first time. Will either of them recognize how fateful this meeting will ultimately become?
> 
> Probably not. Five's pretty oblivious.


	4. What's Their Name Again?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five is slowly starting to meet the residents and runners of Abel Township. There's just so many of them, how is she to realize if any of these meetings are particularly meaningful?
> 
> Takes place just before S1M4.
> 
> Content warnings: Discussion of the helicopter crash, a brief mention of blood/the fate of the pilot.

_Day 11 in Abel Township_

A couple of days later, Five side-stepped her way down the foodservice line for lunch. Of all the places in Abel, the cafeteria had felt the most immediately familiar. The square brick building boasted the largest single indoor space in the township, with enough room for two dozen three-deep rows of folding tables scattered about its interior. The comfortably mild smells of mass-produced food, plastic tubs of mismatched silverware, and the easily-cleanable tiled floor felt like every chow hall Five had ever entered.

Baked potatoes were on the menu, again—the fourth time since Five had arrived just over a week ago. It wasn’t too hard to guess what might be sprouting in the fields come spring. Five selected from the line a potato with a small pat of butter, peas that had obviously been canned despite a valiant attempt at blanching, and some delightfully British baked beans. Five was deliberating over the dessert options: a snack cake or a sealed cup of fruit cocktail—the kind familiar in kid’s lunches when schools still existed—when someone called her from a few places behind in line.

Five stepped out of line to wait for her roommate. Cora set a small cup of what looked like milk on the corner of Five’s tray when she caught up.

“What’s this?” Five asked, noticing Cora had an identical drink. However, instead of a tray, Cora balanced her food in a Tupperware box on one am.

“A half scoop of protein in water,” Cora answered. “You’re supposed to get one from that station in the middle after official runs—it was made part of our training plans to help with recovery. Or just to shut up Simon, I’m honestly not sure. We’d do full servings, but, y’know. Rationing. Oh, I got you veggie protein, I wasn’t sure how you felt about whey protein.”

Five had no idea who Simon was but decided it was a problem for her future self. “Oh, I’m fine with either. But really, that’s amazing you do that here! I can’t believe how much thought goes into training for running.” Five glanced back at the station in the center of the line she had missed, manned by a spiky-haired teen diligently swirling prepped cups of powder and water. “Wait, so do the cafeteria workers know who all the runners are? Or do they just give it to anyone who asks?”

Cora half-shrugged. “It’s sort of an honor system, I guess? But Abel’s not that big. You’ll start to recognize pretty much everyone after a while.”

“But I’m new here—they already knew I was a runner?”

“Well…you did kind of make a…big entrance, you know.” Cora laughed. “Word gets around.”

Five looked faintly horrified, glancing around the room as she accompanied Cora down the rest of the line. Sure enough, a half-dozen sets of eyes flicked up as she passed with mild curiosity before returning to their owners’ conversations. Five smiled nervously, feeling uncomfortably like the heroine of a mediocre young adult novel.

“Anyway,” Cora continued, grabbing a packaged cake. “I’ve got to run; I’m meeting with some colleagues over lunch for the archival project. Rowan’s probably at one of the tables over there—I think I see some of the other runners, too. See you later, Five!”

With a wave, Cora was gone. Five, feeling abruptly teenaged again, picked her way carefully through the aisles, looking for an empty table or a flash of Rowan’s distinctive maroon-tipped brunette hair. The place was packed, so Five found the latter first, engaged in lively conversation with some of Abel’s youngest runners.

Rowan caught sight of Five’s approach and gave an upward nod of greeting, then shouldered sideways into her friend to make room in the center of the bench. Five smiled in a vague greeting as the conversation continued without pause. Rowan appeared too caught up indicating points on her freshly-empty tray in a dramatic retelling of some sort of “shell maneuver” to make introductions. As Five sat down, she noticed a large “22” stenciled onto Rowan’s sleeve, and it occurred to Five she’d never seen Rowan in anything without her number on it.

On Five’s other side was a freckled girl with twin braids and an accent that reminded Five of _Doctor Who,_ for some reason. With a broad smile, she made a quick round of a half-dozen introductions of another group of runners, none of whose names Five retained for more than a split second. She’d always been awful with names, especially when it was just going to be a matter of time before she rotated out again.

Five barely had time to smile up at everyone before a barrage of questions began.

“So, where are you from?” That was Braids, beginning with a normal question.

“Boston, pretty much.” Five answered, not thinking to explain the open end.

On Jody’s other side, a man muscular enough to bring _Beauty and the Beast’s_ Gaston to mind leaned around Jody to eye Five up and down. “Did you really get shot out the sky and then run all the way here?”

“Yeah, what’s that like?” A lanky-limbed runner across the table added.

“And you weren’t injured?!” Someone off to the right of the previous.

“There’s no way; nobody would survive that—”

Five had thoroughly lost track of who was asking questions or arguing with one another, so she addressed the table at large.

“I mean, yeah, technically, we were shot down. Luckily, we were at pretty low altitude and everything, and there was enough time to guide us to a field. Obviously, I got really lucky, my pilot…” Five paused. The pilot’s bloodied face flashed before her eyes for a split second before she continued as nonchalantly as she could. “I got some nice bone bruises and some glass shards in the side, but nothing big.”

Braids’ eyes were wide. “Oh my God, that’s terrifying!”

“Yeah, but why shoot down a helicopter?”

“Who even has that kind of firepower except for Mullins?”

A couple of runners split off into a debate about who had that kind of firepower these days. Just as Five was about to take advantage of the pause to spear a bite of potato, Jody directed the conversation back to Five.

“So what’s with the baseball cap?” she asked. “Is it really that much of an American thing?”

Five shrugged a little sheepishly. “I mean, yes and no? It helps to keep the sun out of my eyes when I’m running. I pretty much don’t wear hats otherwise, but a lot of people wear them all the time back home. Besides, I got it the last time I was—”

Five was interrupted by Muscles suddenly jumping to his feet, smacking his forehead with the heel of his palm dramatically. “Time! I totally forgot!” Without further explanation, he clambered away from the table, balancing his tray on one broad palm. “Sorry to interrupt, Five, only I was supposed to grab Jody and bring her to a meeting with Evan a half-hour ago. But she’d already sat down to lunch, so…” Simon shrugged in something resembling an apologetic manner.

“Simon!” Jody/Braids protested. “Exactly when were you going to tell me about this meeting? I’ve my own life, you know.” Still, she began stacking her utensils neatly onto the tray and unentangling herself from the bench. “Sorry, Five, must dash!”

“No worries!” Five replied. As the pair—and one or two of the others nearby—left, Five mused at how dedicated Abel Township’s runners were to their profession. It was an identity to them, she was beginning to realize, not just a job. Runners roomed together, had dietary accommodations, and even seemed to have inside jokes. Five was suddenly anxious about hovering at the edges of something that seemed so central to life here. She couldn’t forget about her original assignment, either.

Rowan was still gesturing emphatically in conversation, so Five finally turned her attention to her meal. She was able to get a few mouthfuls of beans in before a familiar voice from behind her startled her into looking up.

“Hey, Rowan, have you seen Runner Five lately?” Sam Yao called as he quickly made his way towards the bench’s center from the central aisle. “It’s a bit urgent.”

Five twisted around to locate the source of the voice she’d been immediately able to name. She hadn’t actually met Sam in person yet—just heard him over her headset on runs. Sam Yao didn’t look at all like Five had pictured him based on his voice, although, to be honest, she hadn’t put much thought into it until that moment. She’d thought of him as a sort of bland amalgamation of past coworkers, although fairly young and considerably more energetic. But looking at him, bland was the last thing Five would have thought of.

Sam Yao exuded warmth and openness. His hair was on the shaggy side of short and lay in soft black spikes on his forehead, contrasting with the brightness of a smile that dominated his entire face. His ridiculously orange loose-fitting hoodie was about as elegant as his usual manner of speaking over the radio, but it gave him an overall air of softness and approachability. Sam was the physical embodiment of a sincere compliment on what a good job you’ve done today.

Five blinked, adjusting her mental image of Abel’s radio operator and wondering why her brain had gone into a metaphorical mode for a second there. Regardless, this was lucky—Five had been thinking earlier that it would be useful to be able to recognize her coworker, particularly since he’d seen her on the cameras plenty of times by now.

In response to Sam’s question, Rowan had arched an eyebrow at his ignorance and cocked her head towards Five. Five sheepishly raised a hand to her eye level, amused by the fact neither of them had recognized the other. Sam looked from Rowan to Five and blinked a few times, examining the latter with an oddly surprised expression.

“Um…that’s me.” Five said to break the awkward pause.

“Oh!” Sam said quickly. “I just—I didn’t realize until now we hadn’t met in person. So, uh, hi! I’m Sam Yao—although, I guess you’ve figured that by now.” Despite his smile, Sam kept looking at Five as if he’d missed something important.

“Sorry, probably not what you expected?” Five joked, trying to nudge Sam away from his scrutiny.

“No—I mean, you’re—you look…blonder with your hair down, I think, that’s it. Looks a bit different on the cameras. I mean, the screens aren’t that big. Sorry, I should have come round sooner; you’ve been here almost a week! Some welcome we gave you, sending you out right away.” Sam laughed nervously.

Five couldn’t help but smile at Sam’s amiable rambling. As much as she enjoyed it, though, she figured she’d better prod him towards the point.

“It’s fine, really. But you were looking for me, right? Something urgent?”

“Oh! Yes,” Sam said, one hand going to the pair of headphones he’d left hung around his neck in his haste to find the runner. His tone clicked over into pure professionalism. “We’ve had reports of an abandoned kid in the area around Abel. The schedule’s really tight at the moment, and Janine thinks you can handle carrying a bit of extra weight after you took Cora’s bag last time. We’ve got a scout out to confirm, but we needed to see if you could get ready to run the mission quickly.”

“She’s already had a training session this morning,” Rowan broke in brusquely. Five had momentarily forgotten her roommate was right there. “I’m fresh. I can do it.”

“Yes, but we’ll need you fresh in case we need to send out a distraction team as Five’s bringing back the kid.” Sam’s tone was smoothly confident and skillfully calmed Rowan’s indignation. He’d clearly thought this through, despite having just gotten the report. “Either way, Five, we’ll need to send you out pretty soon. Twenty-Two, you and the fast team will have at least as long as it takes to reach the kid to wait, so you’ve got some time.”

Five and Rowan both nodded. Five pushed her mostly-full tray sideways in front of Rowan, keeping just the fruit cup and a spoon as she stood. She knew she couldn’t run on a full stomach without feeling unwell, so this would have to serve for now. 

“I’m on it,” Five said, all thoughts of learning people’s names or quirks of Abel runners shut down in favor of an intense focus on the mission. “Do we have any intel on the kid’s condition?”

Sam shook his head as he began to head out of the cafeteria through a side exit. “We haven’t got much more than that so far. It’s well within camera and comms range, though, so I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Five was surprised by how reassuring that sounded, especially since she was already feeling a surge of anticipatory energy. Even though her head didn’t even come up to the top of Sam’s shoulders. Five channeled this energy into keeping up with his much longer, faster strides.

There was a kid out there, alone and an easy target in a zom-filled wilderness. They didn’t have time to waste. Five only hoped she would be up to the task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited to post the next chapter...I've had it written for ages and it's really going to kick off attempts at a plot and actual arcs. Thanks for being here!


	5. Interlude: Room 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sketch of Room 42.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rowan's bed is on the left side, Cora has the bottom bunk on the right, and Five is on the top right bunk.
> 
> My scanner broke and I'll probably ink this, I will update this when I do!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next layer of the sketch with their possessions to come soon!


	6. Projectiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place just after S1M5.
> 
> Content Warnings: Mild language, abandonment/loyalty issues.

_Day 12 in Abel Township_

Cora could hear chatter from Room 42 as she came down the hallway. She barely bothered knocking on the door before entering, still carefully towel-drying her dense curls from her post-run shower. Rowan was sprawled out on her bunk, as usual, grinning at Five, who was using the room’s lone chair to balance as she stretched.

“—didn’t think I could even _get_ this wrecked without actual weights,” Five was complaining. “Hi, Cora!”

“’S what you get for letting Simon run your workout!” Rowan snorted.

“Was that who it was? I swear to God, I miss everyone wearing nametapes. What number is he?” Five clambered to the top bunk and rummaged in her backpack, which sat in the corner of her mattress.

“Three,” Rowan and Cora chorused.

“Don’t worry. If there was anybody in the gym offering _personal training_ to anyone in earshot, it was Simon.” Cora laughed and bounced down to sit on her bed.

“Well, who _ever_ it was, I’m not going to be able to use my arms for days.” Five flopped flat on her back with an exaggerated groan, becoming a disembodied voice from above.

Rowan snorted. “So what you’re saying is, you’ve not even been here a week, and you’ve already got Simon making you sore? I knew you were fresh meat, but I’d expected more of—” Rowan ducked as a wad of fabric was lobbed in her general direction. “Hey, I don’t want your dirty socks!”

“They’re clean!” Five’s voice protested.

“In that case, I’ll hold them hostage. I know you only have like three pairs.”

“Wait, no—!” Five popped back up and peered over the side of the bunk railing. Rowan snickered before throwing the socks gently back at her face.

Cora set down the brush she’d been working through her hair. “Why don’t you get more clothes from supply? It must be a chore to do laundry every other day.”

“I could, but I don’t think I can fit more in my pack if I go back to Mullins,” Five said casually, turning away to return her socks to her backpack.

Cora watched the teasing in Rowan’s eyes shift into something sharp.

“Riiight,” Rowan said bitterly. “You might have to actually _unpack_ at some point then. Resign yourself to _slumming it_ with us Abel folk.”

Five froze, holding her bag, thrown off-balance by the rapid shift in tone. “I didn’t mean—”

“No, don’t worry, _Runner Five_ ,” Rowan hissed, rising from the bed to glare up at the diagonal bunk. “We get it. You’re still hoping you’re not here to stay; it’s _fine.”_

“That’s not what I—”

“Oh, _shove it,_ Five!” Rowan snapped, volume rising a notch. “We all know Runner Seven told you a week ago Mullins wasn’t sending anyone to pick you up. You just don’t want to accept it—You think you’re too _good_ for Abel, with your secret missions and marching orders, that’s why you keep pretending you won’t have to _waste your time_ helping us anym—”

“How _dare_ you?!” Five threw her pack down hard and gripped the bunk’s sideboards, back ramrod-straight and eyes narrowed. Her voice was as quiet a hiss as Rowan’s was a loud accusation. “How _absolutely_ dare you?! If you _seriously_ think that I wouldn’t do _anything_ to—”

“To _what_?! To leave Abel behind? You think just because you saved a kid and became the talk of the town within a bloody _week_ that you get to pick and choose where you want to be?! Unlike you, some of us had to _work_ to be—”

“Ro, please, that’s enough—” Cora interrupted.

Rowan advanced towards the other bunk, hands fisted at her sides, meeting Five’s glare with twice as much spite. She didn’t know why she was so infuriated or wh a shard of betrayal careened through her chest, but she was _done_ with the golden child act.

“Newsflash, _Rachel_!” Rowan taunted, spreading her arms out wide from her sides. The use of Five’s name instead of her runner designation was like another projectile lobbed across the room. “Maybe Mullins has as little loyalty as you do. Or maybe nobody’s coming to get you because _you’re not worth the effort to bring back!_ ”

Five felt as if she’d been slapped in slow motion, shock giving way to insult in flashes of cold and hot. 

Turning on her heel, Rowan yanked up her running shoes and bag from where they lay near the dresser. One of the dark purple ribbons that had been wrapped around the straps of her pack fluttered to the ground as she stalked out. “I’ve got a training session to run. Have fun in your _hotel room_.”

Five gaped after Rowan, looking stricken. Cora ran a hand through her hair in frustration. She’d seen these kinds of outbursts from Rowan a few times before, but they never stopped worrying her.

“Look, Five, please…try not to take it too personally. Sometimes Rowan just says things,” she said. “She’ll regret it later, but—”

“She just _says things?!”_ Five spluttered, dropping down the ladder to stand in front of Cora. “What the _hell_ was all that—I mean, what, over not unpacking my bag?!” Five’s voice shook quiet and dark, although Cora couldn’t tell with what emotion. “That was over the line.”

Cora put a fist on her hip, defensiveness of her youngest roommate leaping in her chest. “Look, like I said, she can be harsh. I agree that it was totally unfair. But I can see where she’s getting it from.”

“… _What._ ” Five’s tone was flat.

“I mean,” Cora adjusted to a gentler course at the fresh look of hurt on Five’s face. “Look, all I’m saying is, it _is_ a bit weird you still haven’t unpacked, you know? I’m sorry, but Evan told us you knew you weren’t going back, and it’s been a week since then. I just—we just thought you’d start making yourself at home a bit. Every time you talk about things here, it’s—get back to _the township._ Go back to _the room_. It just doesn’t seem like you want to call this place home, even though we’ve tried to be welcoming.”

Five had moved back to lean against the ladder and seemed unwilling to move away, gaze lowered and face turned towards the door. After a long moment, Cora reached forward as if to touch Five’s shoulder but thought better of it when Five ducked her chin slightly.

“Look…I’m going to go find Rowan before she takes things out on the runners at training. I’m sure she was just upset because…Anyway, it’ll be good for you both to cool off.”

Five crossed her arms over her chest, stony-faced. Cora sighed and slipped into her shoes before turning back to Five, one hand on the door handle. 

“I know this must be a hard adjustment for you, Five, and you didn’t ask for any of this. I’m sorry you’ve had a rough go of it, showing up like you did. Just…I hope you’ll be able to settle in soon.”

Five crossed her arms over her chest, biting back a snide remark intended to block the unexpected moment of sympathy. Instead, she nodded, eyes still fixed straight ahead.

Cora left to find her other roommate, leaving Abel’s newest resident to watch the door swing shut with a hollow click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see, Five's been shown around town plenty, has met a certain motorcycle man and his daughter, and run around like Paul Revere. What could possibly be in store for tomorrow's mission?


	7. A Desperate Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five was sent on a mission near New Canton, but hasn't returned. It's getting dark.
> 
> Content warnings: mention of death, guilt, zombies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evening of Day 13 in Abel Township. During S1M6-7.

By the time Cora and Rowan returned the evening of the fight, Room 42 was empty. “Gone to study” was scrawled under Five’s list of scheduled runs on the whiteboard they kept on the dresser. Apparently, Five had snuck back in after midnight and was still asleep when her roommates left the next morning. Since she was scheduled for an afternoon supply run, they’d let her be. Rowan had refused to say anything about last night’s blowout, so Cora decided to give the incident an uneasy space.

That evening, Rowan and Cora were engaged in a spirited debate on which pre-Z bands made the best running playlists when there was a heavy knock at the door.

“There’s Five, finally,” Cora said casually, leaning forward to swing the thin door inwards. Instead, it was Evan that loomed into view, looking grim. Both women looked at him, stomachs sinking and pulses rising. The only time Evan came to knock on runners’ doors was—

“Runner Five is still missing,” he said without preamble. “I thought you both should know first. She’s out of camera range, but I’ve convinced Janine to let us launch a short search.” He paused for a moment to let them absorb the news before looking at Rowan. “Runner Twenty-Two…I know it was supposed to be your day off, but we’re asking our fastest and freshest runners. If you’d like to volunteer—”

“I’ll go,” Rowan said flatly and rose from her seat.

Cora was still trying to process what was going on. “Missing? But how, she—wasn’t it just a supply run?”

Evan’s expression didn’t change. “I don’t have all the details. All I know is she ran into trouble near New Canton, had to run off course, and hasn’t been seen since.”

“New Canton?! Evan, are you sure—” Cora tried to start before catching sight of Rowan’s darkly determined expression. The younger girl still hadn’t looked Cora or Evan in the face. “…Run safe, Ro,” Cora finished lamely.

With a curt nod, Rowan trailed after Evan down the dim hallway. When he paused to rap at another door, Rowan continued towards the pre-mission briefing room, focusing on warming up her legs. 

Almost no time passed before Rowan was running north into the fading twilight. She couldn’t remember much of the briefing beyond the general mission area and direction of Five’s last known position. Rowan tried to guess what Five might have been wearing—she literally only had three shirts, it shouldn’t be this _hard_ —but settled instead for scanning the darkness so hard her temples ached. What color was the dumb hat Five insisted on wearing every mission “to keep the sun out of her eyes”? So help her, if it actually turned out to be useful now…

Rowan knew there were at least three other runners spaced out in the dark in the rough line of a search party, but for now, her radio was as silent as the night. Abel’s runners knew to minimize risk, no matter how much they wanted to find their missing member.

According to Evan, Five had been out of communication for three hours by now. These days, not hearing from someone outside the walls for that long…Not a single happy example came to mind.

Looking right, Rowan was reassured by the outline of the next runner over, long strides steadily eating up the road and a large rifle strapped to their back. Rapid puffs of breath caught the beam of a light headlamp like a weak smoke signal. They clearly hadn’t seen anything, either.

Rowan faced forward, swallowing hard against something searingly hot rising at her throat.

How far could Five have possibly gotten? The search party was nearing the limits of the occasional lights set up surrounding Abel, almost a mile out, and there was still no sign of her. Had she even headed in the right direction?

Rowan really wished she had her music blaring through her headset, but she needed to listen for movement. At least the thrashing drums would have given her something more to focus on than the dread that grew with each passing field.

Five didn’t have Cora’s grasp of the surrounding area; she didn’t have Rowan’s speed. Five had barely finished a (literal) crash-course training program a few days ago. All of that, plus whispered rumors about the repeated bad luck of the several Runners Five—

Rowan’s heart dropped painfully, irritatingly. They were always losing people; why should this be different?

After half an hour, the comms grew more lively as the runners got antsy. It was genuinely dark now, and it’s not like they had more than a general direction and thready flashlights to work with. The comfortable companionship Rowan usually felt on group runs grew nervous.

The next time she looked, Rowan couldn’t see anyone else in the gloom. She’d pulled over a kilometer ahead of even the next fastest runner in the line without realizing. Her legs moved faster with swelling panic, each bend in the path a fresh set of self-recriminations, the burning in her legs equaling her racing thoughts. 

_Why did I get so angry? Did I mean that?_

_Why should I care if she stays or goes? I’m still here, either way._

_I shouldn’t have said that. Even if she didn’t act like—She_ doesn’t _act like one of us._

_It’s not like I haven’t done the same thing._

Eyes focused on her thoughts instead of the ground, Rowan felt a jolt as she nearly tripped on the lip of a pothole. Startled, she realized she had completely tuned out the chatter from her headset over her ragged breathing. Rowan turned up the volume with fingers made clumsy with cold.

“Runners Eight, Twelve, Eighteen, Twenty-Two, come in. _”_ Evan’s was saying, voice level and authoritative. “We’re bringing you all in. Now. Repeat; Eight, Twelve, Eighteen, and Twenty-Two: Return to Abel immediately.”

“Did we find her?” That was a hopeful Runner Twelve.

“No,” Evan replied. “We’re calling off the search. There’s been no update on a position, and we can’t risk any more runners. We’re low enough as it is.” Evan let the silence breathe. “Sam says all three of you are clear to turn around and follow your original routes back to Abel. Acknowledge once you’ve turned around.”

Three affirmations came in quick succession, each a blow of defeat in Rowan’s ears. They were just going to give up? A screaming need to find a missing team member mingled with lurking anger, shame, and resentment.

Rowan hesitated.

She surged forward.

“Runner Twenty-Two? Acknowledge.” Evan sounded sharp, irritated. Rowan didn’t care.

“Twenty-Two?” that was Sam this time, his unusually anxious voice crackling in Rowan’s ear. “You need to come back in. I’m going to stay on comms, just in case—I know it’s not likely, but just in case—”

Rowan yanked her headset off. It dangled around her neck plaintively, occasionally squawking as people called for a response or shouted for her to come back. She just needed a moment, a _second_ of quiet, she needed to listen for Five’s footsteps, for cracking branches or groaning zoms in pursuit—

Rowan was rapidly approaching a rusty streetlamp with a dim yellow halo huddled near its base. From experience, she knew it was the furthest light source on her route, the outer limits of safety at night. Any further, and she’d be outside Sam’s visual range, plunging blindly into countryside crawling with the undead. Any further, and she’d be in the dark.

Rowan scowled at empty, chill air. Why was she even considering this? Why were _any_ of them out here, risking their own necks for someone who’d appeared less than a fortnight ago? Five had practically become a runner by accident.

_Would they have done the same if it was me missing?_

Rowan ran out of the spot of light, Abel at her back. Her breath grew ragged, blood thrummed with a dozen different emotions.

_They would. We’d all look, for any one of us._

It didn’t matter what Five thought or if she’d gotten the job by accident. She’d risked her life for Abel anyway, brought in supplies, even saved a little girl. Five was a runner now, even if Rowan was the last to accept it. Besides, Five couldn’t put in the work to earn her place if she died tonight.

Rowan snapped into focus. New Canton was farther out, too far to reach at night, but that was where Five had been heading, right? If Rowan could get a bit closer in that direction—she could drag her back home, where everyone was waiting for them both.

Then Rowan heard it—Steadily running steps to her left.

Rowan whipped her head towards the noise, barely keeping from overbalancing, stomach leaping victoriously—

Runner Eight loped out of the lamplight, a coolly affable smile on her face.

“There you are, Twenty-Two,” Sara Smith called quietly. “Looks like you’ve gone a bit farther out than we planned, haven’t you?”

Rowan stumbled to a stop, gaping at Sara’s sudden appearance.

“Evan sent me to bring you back. Can’t have two runners going missing on the same night, now can we?” Sara caught up to Rowan easily and slowed, waiting expectantly.

Rowan’s mouth worked to form a protest before she clamped it shut. Desperation warred with admiration: the desperation to find Five clashing with instructions from the runner Rowan respected the most.

Sara placed an iron-heavy hand on Rowan’s shoulder. “It’s time to head in, Rowan. There’s nothing more to be done.”

It was a flat statement of fact. Against her will, Rowan felt her brows knit together and her breathing stutter. She didn’t want to accept this, but she couldn’t think of an adequate protest.

Sara studied Rowan’s face a moment, then nodded solemnly and turned back towards the perimeter of light. She knew Rowan would follow.

And follow Rowan did, each step heavy with resignation as if her shoes were filled with lead. She didn’t care about speed anymore and just followed Sara’s back towards the point of red light marking their destination. Rowan hadn’t bothered to replace her headset. After Sara checked in to say they were coming back, Rowan could tell that Sam was the only one talking anymore.

He seemed to be talking a lot. For once, his tone didn’t sound reassuring.

Rowan felt like her throat squeeze tight as a fist. They lost people all the time, but it was usually certain—a bite discovered in the medical tents, giving everyone a few minutes to say goodbye. A running team coming back one member short, having watched grey hands tear down one of their own. Alice being put down by a guard atop the wall, within sight of the whole township. Rarely had anyone gone missing, out of sight.

They weren’t going to find Five tonight. Another face gone; another gaping hole in the small group of those who ran for Abel.

Rowan should probably accept there wasn’t anything left to find. Not even a dumb red baseball cap.

The comms were silent when Rowan and Sara ducked under the gate.

It was past midnight when the door to Room 42 opened again. Cora practically launched herself from her bed towards the door to see Rowan in the doorway, an empty pack dangling limply from one hand, eyes fixed on the floor. A strangled noise between relief and sorrow jumped from Cora’s throat as she wrapped her arms around Rowan in a tight hug.

By the time they separated, the shudder in Rowan’s shoulders had told Cora all she had needed to know. Rowan slumped onto her bunk, burying her head under her pillow and letting the adrenaline-drain trembling of her limbs eventually distract her into sleep. Cora tried to sleep as well but only tossed and turned, deafened by the quiet of the empty bunk above.


	8. Listening in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janine sends Five on a mission to New Canton. What could possibly go horribly wrong?
> 
> It's time for a Voice in the Dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full playthrough S1M6 and S1M7. Don't even look at this if you haven't played these missions.
> 
> Many, but not all, of Janine and Simon's lines are directly pulled from the missions themselves and belong to Six to Start. This is my rewrite (total overhaul) of my very first fic of the same title, but with more plot this time!
> 
> Content warnings: language, blood, minor injury, mention of character death, zombies, guns and gunfire, lost at night, losing hope, defeatist thinking.

_Night 13 in Abel Township._

Five was irritated.

Janine had scheduled her for what was supposed to be a standard supply run, but was actually a covert equipment swap with New Canton. In her two weeks at Abel, Five had never heard a kind word about the neighboring township, so it made sense the mission needed to be kept under wraps. But since Janine hadn’t told Five where she was actually _going_ , Five had spent the day studying maps of the wrong route. Not only that, but the run to New Canton was longer than Five was used to, about an hour each way.

The whole thing had her on edge.

But Janine had told her to ‘pick up the pace,’ so Five tried to run faster, feeling the scrutiny of hidden cameras.

It was an unusually late mission, too. The sun had already slipped low, casting the land in gold. With some embarrassment, Five acknowledged Rowan or several other runners would have been at New Canton twenty minutes ago. So why had Janine chosen Five? Maybe it had something to do with Project Greenshoot, on which Five had _still_ not been fully briefed.

Yeah, she was irritated.

Five was pushing up a large hill – why was this whole route uphill? – when Janine came in over the headset.

“Your contact should be meeting you just over the edge of the ridge from where you are right now. Keep running!”

Five crested the ridge and headed for the stone walls looming ahead, squinting at a cluster of objects outside the gate. Were those vehicles of some kind? And people?

From the direction of the – castle? – came two clicks, a high-pitched whining noise, and—

The rapid _RATATAT!!_ of artillery.

Five backpedaled away from the sound of the automatic weapon as spurts of dirt kicked up a few yards ahead. Warning shots.

“RUNNER FROM ABEL TOWNSHIP!” a man shouted over a megaphone.

“It’s a trap.” Sam said flatly.

“Take evasive maneuvers!” Janine shouted almost simultaneously.

“What ‘evasive maneuvers?!’ this isn’t _Top Gun_!”

The rest of Sam’s protest was muddled by the man from New Canton shouting at her again. Feeling surprisingly calm, Five blocked out all the noise for a few seconds, trying to duck and weave down the ridge to cover—

“Runner Five, Runner Five!” Sam yelled in her ear. “There’s a break in the, uh…”

“STOP! NOT A STEP FURTHER!”

“…Yeah, the wall of people surrounding you.”

There—A gap in the left flank of the ragged semicircle of advancing men. Five sprinted for the space, praying the lack of visible guns meant they were unarmed.

Head down, shoulder forward, Five bull-rushed the line. The split-second benefit of surprise she gained by running directly at the guards was enough to break through. Five raced past as hard as she could, even as she heard the men turning to run after her. Back to zig-zagging, and Sam was saying something else—

“If you keep heading in the direction you’re going, you might go out of scanner range, but Runner Five – just _run_!”

Another spray of gunfire sounded close behind. The nape of Five’s neck spasmed at each gunshot, tensing for the punch of a bullet in the back. Launched forward by electric adrenaline, Five flat-out sprinted away from New Canton. No matter how fast she was, if New Canton aimed that thing at her, she was dead.

 _What_ the hell _kind of intel was Janine using?!_

Five leaped down the ridge and headed for a loose cluster of trees, abandoning evasive maneuvers in favor of speed. She could hear shouts and heavy footsteps in pursuit, but at least the gunshots had stopped.

Five spun and dropped flat on her stomach after running into the treeline, peering up through tall grasses in the direction she’d come. Bulky figures were silhouetted along the ridge she’d descended, and a few had followed partway. She could hear shouts and see men gesturing, so she tried to silence her panting. The men seemed to be unwilling to follow.

Five laid still, waiting until the last of the men returned towards New Canton before getting up. She jogged away from the fortress, trying to get her bearings. Farmland stretched before her in a quilt of different-colored crops, a tiny stone farmhouse to her left, and a large stand of trees bordering its backyard.

Five depressed the switch to open her push-to-talk comms. “Runner Five to Abel Township. It looks like New Canton didn’t bother chasing me. I can circle wide ‘round this farm and start heading back. I assume there won’t be more electronics exchanges today,” she added dryly.

“Five, that whole area’s outside camera range, we don’t know if there are any zoms—” Sam protested.

“There isn’t another choice, Sam,” Janine interrupted, in what Five was going to count as agreement. “Runner Five, continue northwest around whatever farm you see, then turn southwest to vector towards your original course. Check in when you make the last turn so we can pick you up on the scanners again. Keep radio silence until then; you’ll have to watch for zombies yourself.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Five responded automatically, releasing the microphone switch.

“Did – did you just call Janine _ma’am_?” Sam asked incredulously. “No wonder you picked Runner Five for your special mission, Janine! Have you terrorized her into—”

“ _Enough,_ Mister Yao,” Janine sniffed. “If you’ll recall, Runner Five _is_ military. It seems she at least knows how to recognize the authority running Abel Township, civilian or otherwise.”

Five bit her lip, regretting the slip-up. Mullins had told her to report to Major De Santa for instructions on Greenshoot, but Janine seemed to be running things in her place. Five had assumed she was military as well – and based on their respective ages, probably higher-ranking. It sounded as if she’d gotten it wrong…

Five drew even with the farm’s front yard, following the wire fence. She squinted at the house a few yards away to see if it was worth checking for supplies. The front door was wide open, and one of the windows had been smashed outward. She could still see shards of glass gleaming on the lawn. Not a good sign. And what was that noise, under the birdsong? Was that a zombie groaning? And was that the wind in that field, or—?

Sam was still chattering nervously on her headset. Wishing she could signal him to shut up so she could listen, Five turned down the volume.

Listening hard, Five rounded the corner of the farmhouse, turning south to put her on the path back into scanner range and—

Stepped out into nothing.

Five felt the sickening jolt of missing a step validated by a long fall as she pitched forward into the runoff ditch she’d missed in the tall grass. Five cried out, burning pain racing from one wrist to elbow as the side of her head bounced against the side of the gulch. There was another jarring impact as her knees slammed into the damp earth, and her pack slammed hard against her back.

Once she stopped skidding, Five frantically scrambled to her feet. Well, at least she could stand, so no broken legs. A quick shake of the arms, a pat-down of the torso – no immediately apparent injuries. But damn, that hurt.

Five was glad _that_ hadn’t been on camera.

A flash of red fabric in the dirt caught her eye; Five swept the fallen baseball cap back onto her head, tugging her ponytail through the back while she resumed running. Each step was a risk in the uneven ditch, but the only thing she could focus on now was getting to safety. Her graceful crash to earth was surely loud enough to attract zombie attention. She had to get out of here, now.

Disoriented by the fall, Five decided to follow the trench to where it sloped upwards into the trees she was thought extended toward her original route. The ditch was only about chest-high, but that meant limited views of the surrounding fields, so she couldn’t stop to climb out.

As she moved, Five felt something trickle hotly below her right knee – she glanced down at a rivulet of blood on the bare shin below her running shorts. Five sped up in case any zoms had caught the scent, gritting her teeth at the jolts of pain sparked by each step and wishing she could curse profusely.

Once she had the breath, Five groped at the right side of her headset for the mic. She felt ice race through her veins when her fingers met with jagged edges and curving wires instead of smooth plastic.

“Runner Five to Abel Township! Come in, Abel Township, over!” Five spat out a mouthful of grit and pulled the microphone closer, listening. No response.

“Sam? Ms. De Luca? Can anyone hear me?”

Nothing. The right side of her headset had been crushed. She didn’t know if she could even hear them if they responded. Even her music had disappeared, which wasn’t a good sign.

Five consciously shut down a hot surge of panic as she ran to the trees. She imagined a camera hidden in that branch up ahead, or that one further on, or...she needed to get in visual range fast so she could signal what was going on. Five checked her heading against the sun, selecting a point slightly to its left to move towards.

Minutes crawled by, but still no sound from her headphones. As the adrenaline from the chase faded, the late winter cold rushed back in to sting her hands and ears. Five tugged the brim of her cap down on her forehead as if it could offer any warmth.

The ground sloped downwards, dead leaves scuffling beneath Five’s shoes. Or had that come from her left? Five strained her ears, listening. Something moved in the underbrush as if dragging itself through fallen branches. Five adjusted course away from the sound, unwilling to find out what caused it.

Half an hour passed. Fatigue was starting to nip at her heels. Five dropped her chin to her chest for a second but forced her head back up with an internal groan. She had to stay visible, and that meant running as tall as she could. It meant trying to catch the light and remaining clear of obstacles distinguishing herself from the terrain. She had to keep moving.

Before long, the sun set. There was nowhere to shelter, and the reality of her situation began to creep in. Five was running blind. Sam couldn’t see her, and she was stumbling through the woods in a rapidly-darkening night with nothing to guide her home. She was figuratively and literally in the dark, with no idea if there was a pack of zombies on her tail or if she was heading straight towards a necrotic embrace.

If that thought was a pure bolt of electric terror, the next was a churning weight of molten anxiety.

Five wasn’t even sure she was going in the right direction.

The stand of trees was lasting longer than she’d expected, stretching into a forest she didn’t recall from the maps. There was no sun to guide by, and she didn’t know how to navigate by the stars. She had no idea where she was, or if Sam could see her, or if she’d ever hear him or Janine again.

 _Compasses really should be standard equipment,_ she thought, clutching at practicality like a life ring. _And emergency flares. Does Abel even have those?_

Five was picking her way across a pebbly creek when static burst from her headset. She jerked her head upwards as if she could see the source.

“Runner Five, Runner Five, come in, Runner Five… Can you hear me?”

Five barely kept from crying out with relief, pressing the switch on her broken headset with shaking fingers.

“Sam?” she whispered.

Sam didn’t acknowledge. She tried again, tried sliding the pieces of plastic together in some new way to complete a circuit.

“Runner Five…Come in, Runner Five, if you’re out there…” It was faint, but Sam was definitely there between the crashing waves of white noise.

“I don’t know if you can hear me.” Sam’s tone suggested he’d been talking for a while. “Our scanner’s down. It never works that well at night anyway, and a couple of bits of equipment have broken down, so…So there’s no way to see where you are.”

It felt as if the static had found its way into Five’s lungs, her brain, her throat. Sam kept talking, but she struggled to process the words. Something about where she was – north. North was crawling with zombies.

Five slowed to a stop for the first time, staring at the random pattern of branches and night sky above. Dread clawed up her throat from her stomach as Sam went on.

Abel would have to bar the gates if she didn’t get back soon, he said.

Would they really trap her out here to die?

 _Yes,_ her training told her. _As they should. For their own safety._

As if in agreement, Five could have sworn she heard a groan from the shadows.

“…there’s no better reason you’d make it back than any of the others. But we’ve put the red beacon on top of the tower, so if you can see it, my best advice is… run.”

Five felt her tired, aching legs obey without conscious thought. There was a voice in the dark telling her to run, and she wasn’t about to let it down. Not when Sam was telling her there was hope. Not when someone wanted her to come back.

_I’m still out here. They haven’t gotten to me yet. Please, Sam…I’m coming. Please don’t stop talking. Don’t leave me alone out here._

There was a scrabbling behind her as a trio of zombies burst over the creek bank, hands clawing blindly in her direction.

Good thing she was already running.

For a while, everything was a blur of fatigue. At this point, she would have even welcomed Runner Eight’s company. At least their mutual suspicion would be something to focus on. Time had grown hazy, but Five guessed she had been going for at least three hours by now, longer than she’d ever run before. The small of her back was being tenderized by the bulky electronics bouncing in her pack, and she had to keep forcing her fists down from shoulder level. The water had run out ages ago.

Whenever Sam was silent, Five’s heart sank steadily, but he always came back just before the despair dragged her to a halt. It was like he was pulling her in, reminding her someone knew she was out there. At first, Sam tried to joke around, tossing insults at the hypothetical zombie Five. But it was a brittle façade, and soon he was talking about failing uni, disappointed family, and lost faces. An image of Cora and Rowan flashed through Five’s mind. She wondered if they were worried, if they knew how wrong things had gone.

Despite the frigid air, Five’s eyes burned with suppressed tears. She fought to keep breathing normally, but the sadness and loss in Sam’s voice felt like needles surrounding Five’s pounding heart.

“…and maybe, you know, well, maybe that’s how it’ll be with you, Runner Five. If you’re gone, who’ll be left to remember you?” he wondered to empty air.

Five felt as if she’d been kneed beneath the ribs.

The answer was nobody. Her whole family was on another continent and probably assumed she was dead by now. She’d been on a solo trip when the apocalypse hit, so everyone she’d ever known was entirely out of reach. Even Mullins had sent her away after barely a month. Not a soul outside of Abel even knew she was alive.

Actually, even Abel wasn’t sure she was alive. How long before they were right?

Sam laughed weakly, breaking into her rapid downward spiral.

“Ooh, yeah, uh, sorry. Guess that’s not too inspiring. Uh, what I mean is…run, Runner Five. Run on home. If you can.”

Run on home.

_Home._

_All of this, and he’s still sitting in that shack, trying to find me._

Five didn’t know why Sam was putting in so much effort for someone he barely knew, but she’d be damned if she let herself become the next person Sam Yao lost.

And if Abel wanted to be her home…Well, maybe she should let it be.

Five’s lungs ached from constant exertion, and her legs burned with each shortening step by the time she finally broke out of the woods. She scanned the horizon desperately for any indication of life or the undead, listened until her ears buzzed, strained her eyes until she saw double. Five craned her head to scan the horizon, looking for – wait.

_Is that…?_

Five jerked her head right, tried to catch it again – there! A tiny spark of red light hovered beyond these fields, more south than she’d expected, but definitely there.

The radio tower!

_Oh, Sam. Sam, you wonderful, clever man!_

Five forced her leaden legs forward, faster, eyes fixed on that beautiful beacon. It was still a ways off, but the Sam’s signal had given her a surge of hidden energy. Abel was calling her home.

_~*~_

“You should get some _sleep_ , Mister Yao,” Janine said sharply. It was aggravating enough that Sam had woken her for a nonsensical question about Pre-Z desserts. It was even worse to hear that Runner Five was still missing. Not that Janine had expected her to turn up after nightfall, of course.

Janine’s thoughts kept spinning to the mission, trying to analyze what had gone wrong with her intel about the electronics swap. Had it all been a setup? If not for New Canton’s betrayal, Runner Five would be home by now. Was New Canton trying to start a war? And beyond that, it was Janine’s responsibility to keep everyone safe, including training for new runners. Had it been too soon to send her out alone? Had Mullins provided her any local-area survival training before sending her into the wilderness? Runner Five was American, and apparently, a city girl at that. She couldn’t possibly be expected to make her way alone.

Sam’s raw voice interrupted her analysis. “I know I _should_ sleep. I just…well, I can’t…” He trailed off and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t want to just, ah…leave her out there. Like last time.”

There was a painful pause in which Sam refused to meet Janine’s eyes. They both knew he was reliving what had happened to Alice. A standard mission gone wrong, like this one. The long silence over the comms between a scuffle and a greyed-out face appearing on the monitors. The gunshot that was savage mercy. It hadn’t even been a month, and the echoes of that day were deafening in the quiet shack.

For the first hour or so, Sam kept telling himself that _this_ Runner Five wasn’t Alice, this wasn’t the _same_ , it was going to end _differently_ this time. If he could only get through…But as exhaustion set in and the night ground on, his ability to hold out hope waned.

Sam sighed shakily. “Just a bit longer.”

Janine flicked her wrist at Sam in what she hoped was a dismissive gesture before turning on her heel and leaving the comms shack.

Sam swiveled to lean forward over the desk again, propping his forehead on one fist and letting out a long exhale.

“Oh, I dunno, Five…They said to me just now I should probably hit the sack sometime soon.” He yawned quickly, not bothering to move away from the microphone sitting impassively on the desk in front of him. “They’ll send on someone else to keep sending out pings through the night, but…I’ve gotta be honest. We’re losing hope here. A couple of zoms have arrived at the gates, and that…usually means the bigger horde is on its way. It may be only a few minutes till we bar the gate.”

Sam wondered distantly why he’d said all that. If he thought Five was out there, why tell her they might abandon her? That she _should_ be afraid, actually? But…if he didn’t believe she was listening, why was he still talking? Why did he _need_ to be the one on comms when plenty of others could take over? Sam’s chest tightened as his thoughts swirled.

_Was there something else I should have done?_

Then, now, it didn’t matter. He just kept losing people.

Sam muttered, more to himself than the mic, as he glanced at the monitors again. “Another good runner gone. Another piece of equipment lost. And we’re…” Still no movement. It was so dark the monitors reflected glare from the window. He’d turned off the lights to try to increase the contrast, scanning the screen for a willowy figure and a long, dark ponytail—Wait.

No. That was wrong. That was Alice.

Suddenly, Sam had a hard time swallowing. How much, how long had he been mentally projecting Alice onto the new Runner Five? This Five was different; she was…his guilt deepened when Sam realized he couldn’t even remember her name. She’d always seemed content to go by the callsign, and Sam was so wrapped up in himself he hadn’t even questioned it. They’d never really talked much outside missions, either, unlike the others. Had he been avoiding getting to know the newest runner?

Maybe it was just as well, if he was going to lose her too.

Sam blinked hard and tried to visualize the correct runner this time. This Five was…blonde. Short. Almost…businesslike? She didn’t talk much on missions, anyway. Sam had seen her talking with her roommates across the cafeteria, and she’d gestured so animatedly, smiled so brightly…

Well, she probably wouldn’t be smiling now, anyhow. Sam racked his brain for anything else that might help. All her clothes were from Mullins, drab and dark, useless at night. Sam and Runner Nine had teased her about wearing a baseball cap on their last mission like an American stereotype. Had she been wearing it tonight?

Sam squinted at the monitors, to no avail. He turned back to the mic.

“The next time I see your face, maybe I’ll have to shoot you in the head.”

As a broadcasting professional, Sam should have been proud of how matter-of-fact he sounded, but it didn’t feel like the words had come from him at all. His vision was wavery and distant as if the room around him was slightly underwater, but his eyes were burningly dry. He couldn’t stop his thoughts tumbling out of his mouth in a rush of despair.

“No one stays sane through this, Five. Whatever the future is, it’s not going to be like the past. No ice cream rolls will make it better, no…No one saying they’re proud of me would make it okay.”

Sam trailed off as Janine re-entered the comms room with two mugs of bitter instant coffee, setting one down on his desk with an efficient clink. Sam wondered how much she’d heard but couldn’t bring himself to care. Janine had time to cross to the other side of the comms room before Sam began speaking again.

“Maybe you’re better off, see, is what I’m saying. I know we’re not supposed to say that, but…But sometimes I think…”

Janine dropped her coffee onto the card table supporting the monitors, fixated on the northernmost feed.

“Mister Yao?” Janine called, but Sam continued talking, staring out the dark window in front of him.

“Maybe, if you don’t have to try to build the future, you’re one of the lucky ones. Maybe…”

“Mister YAO!” Janine nearly yelled, sure now she’d seen movement. Sam glanced over his shoulder as Janine pointed urgently at the faint spot of red slowly in the corner of a screen. It too dark to make out anything clearly, but the color stood out against the gloom. And it was definitely moving, and not at a zombie’s pace.

“What? What is it?” Sam sounded frazzled. “I told you, the scanner’s down, we can’t— ” Sam’s eyes widened as he saw what Janine meant. Suddenly, his blood was roaring in his ears. Runner Five’s hat—it _had_ been red, hadn’t it? “Oh my God, is that…” 

Sam whipped around to the mic and shouted, “Runner Five! I can see you!”

~*~

“Runner Five! I can see you!”

Just a mile away, Runner Five heard Sam shout in her ear. Her heart soared into her throat with hope. She wanted to scream and cheer and holler to the heavens, but that would have taken too much energy.

 _C’mon_ , _Rachel. Almost there,_ Five coached herself mistily, thoughts few and slow-moving as she battled exhaustion. Over the ragged sound of her own breathing, Five thought she heard gargling moans behind her for the dozenth time that night. Five tried to speed up and keep her eyes on the steadily growing point of red light from the radio tower. Her feet had gone numb long ago, and her legs felt so heavy she honestly couldn’t tell if she succeeded.

It wasn’t long until she heard another moment of static. Five held her breath.

“Runner Five? Runner Five, if you can hear me…I can see you!”

Five vaguely swept an arm upwards in an approximation of a wave, hoping the camera would pick up the gesture. She didn’t have time to finish before Sam’s voice sputtered urgently through again.

“Oh my god, Runner Five…” Slapping at a button on his console, Sam opened the frequency to the speakers above the front gates so the guards could hear what he was saying. He needed them arming up _now._

So everyone in earshot of the guard towers heard what Five had feared all night: “You can’t see them, but there’s a tail behind you. Zombies, about thirty of them.”

Of course, Janine had sent word to the guards hours ago that there was a missing runner. Everyone on duty was alert, a dozen sets of eyes trained outwards to scan the night. So when the speakers screeched into life, every guard had their weapon leveled over the wall within moments. Sam had barely begun his next call before a particularly sharp-eyed guard caught sight of movement and called out the position.

“They’re getting closer. I – I dunno, they make that sound at night.”

Shouts went up as another guard recognized the silhouette in the red baseball cap as Runner Five. The first aimed at the blur of grey-brown movement about a hundred yards behind. Five ran towards the gate at a diagonal, still tactically trying to give them a clear angle to shoot. One, two, then three rifles opened fire as a mass of zombies began to stagger too close to the wall, hands clawing at an Abel runner.

The speakers sounded again, fighting to rise above the chaos, although the sound was doubled in Five’s headset. She was close enough to hear the speakers, could make out flashes of weapons on the tower.

“ _Run_ , Runner Five!” Sam could see Five illuminated clearly now as she opened her stride and put on a final burst of speed. He could also see a hand swipe mere inches from her back. Voice caught between fear and joy, Sam urged her on one last time. “Run, _run_ , RUN!”

A few well-placed shots cut down the last of the zoms that had made it into range, making Five’s ears ring from noise and relief. She crashed into the beginning of the chain-link fence that formed a serpentine before the gate, using the rebound momentum to turn inelegantly. Farther back, straggling zombies had begun to slow and spread out, having lost their prey in the confusion.

Sam knew they had the opening they needed. Triumphant, he cranked the speakers at the gates to their full volume and gave the command.

“Raise the gates!”

Sam jumped to his feet, clutching the microphone as he tugged the cord to its full length so he could be as close to the monitors as possible. The dark glass superimposed his reflected grin over a clear image of Runner Five sprinting in. A harsh klaxon added its voice to the din of near-constant gunfire along the wall.

Five had never heard a sweeter sound in her life. Momentarily blinded by a spotlight turned in her direction, she practically fell over her feet as she finished the serpentine, lunging towards space beneath the ascending gate.

“We’ve got you, Runner Five! You’re home!” Sam crowed.

A cheer went up among the guards. Sam dropped his mic and punched a fist in the air, turning towards the window. Even from here, he could see a flurry of movement towards the gate as people rushed to see what was going on. Sam sank back into his chair, still staring out the window. His hands were trembling, but all he felt was giddy laughter bubbling up in his chest.

It was incredible, almost unbelievable, but they’d done it.

Maybe he shouldn’t give up on Five so easily.

~*~

For Five, all was chaos. She’d been straining her senses in the dark for zoms so long that the lights were confusing, the clamor of voices unnerving. She was still moving forward with the Momentum from her last mad dash when figures appeared at each elbow, startling Five so badly she skidded to a halt and nearly fell over. It was just two guards excitedly trying to conduct a bite check and find out what happened, but Five couldn’t follow their rapid-fire questions. They quickly dismissed the line of blood on her cheek from her jagged headset, then the deep scrape along one forearm where she’d caught herself on a tree trunk, before pausing at the deep gash below her knee.

“No, no – I fell, it’s not a bite,” Five protested, trying to move forward. “I swear, they didn’t get near me. I need to get to – Cora!”

“Five!” Cora was approaching at a flat sprint from the direction of the dorms. She’d bolted out of bed at the commotion outside, having never actually fallen asleep. “Oh my God, what happened?! We were so worried! You should have been back ages ago—”

Cora crashed into Five in a relieved hug, and none too soon, as Five’s knees abruptly buckled. Five smiled sheepishly at Cora in thanks before another arm appeared to brace Five’s waist and keep her upright. It was the muscular runner from a few days ago, grinning as usual. Several clinic volunteers jostled their way over to get the best look at her injuries, and Five caught sight of Janine behind them, clearly directing the response effort. When another person stepped forward to drop a blanket on her shoulders, Five began to suspect her disappearance had caused a surprising stir around Abel.

Five suppressed a cough as she began to catch her breath. A few members of the crowd drew back, eyeing her injuries. Five wanted to reassure them, but it felt like her lungs were bruised, her head too light above her shoulders. Someone lifted the backpack off her shoulders, and Five yelped as blood rushed painfully back to the area. She shivered harder as frigid air collided with sweat-drenched clothing.

Five turned to Cora urgently, shrugging out of the arms supporting her, determined to avoid being dragged off to the med tent. She wasn’t done yet, hadn’t quite reached her destination. There was one more thing she needed to do.

“Cora, I am so, _so_ glad to see you. But right now, I need water. And I need to get to the radio tower. It doesn’t matter what order.”

Five’s expression was at once so intense and distant that Cora thought it was best not to argue. She grabbed a bottle from a med tech and handed it to Five, who downed half before sputtering at the salty taste of the “electrolyte recovery fluid.” Once she was satisfied Five had drunk enough, she let Five start walking towards the comms shack again, med techs and curious onlookers in tow. Five stopped at last at the bottom of the stairs that elevated the comms shack like a lifeguard tower.

“Sam Yao!” Five yelled up at the window. “Sam! Get down here!”

There was a pause, then the sound of sneakers clanging quickly down aluminum steps. Sam appeared, hair ruffled into wild spikes and looking ecstatic, if slightly confused.

“Runner Five! Welcome back! I’m – ah, we’re all so glad you’ve got back safely! I, uh, well, it’s great to see you! In person, I mean, you were just on the…on the cameras…” Sam trailed off.

Five looked absolutely spent. Sam couldn’t read her expression as she stared at him intently, and she was just standing there – well, swaying there, more like – so he just kept talking. “I’m – I’m sorry if things got a bit dark there – could you hear any of that? I hope you didn’t – well, at the time I did, but, ah…it wasn’t anything important, just me rambling on…”

“I could hear you,” she responded, tugging off the shattered headset and letting it dangle from her fingers between them. “I tried to answer, I did, but I fell and—I was lucky it still managed to pick you up, although it took a while.”

Cora yanked a med tech out of the way as Five stepped closer to Sam, examining the man whose voice had been as much her guiding beacon as the light on the tower above. Five shook her head and spoke as if she’d just realized something.

“Sam, you brought me home.”

Five held Sam’s gaze a long moment, searching for the right words, before suddenly launching forward to hug him tightly. There were no words for her gratitude. She couldn’t tell them how close she’d been to giving up in that forest until he’d called out to her, waiting for her.

Sam spluttered in surprise for a moment before softening and pulling his arms around Five. He was struck by how just an hour ago he’d thought she was dead—but here she was.

Sam and Five both finally allowed relief to crash over them, finding shared strength in the exhausted embrace. Neither had known how badly they had needed this until that moment.

Sam felt Five rise to her tiptoes and whisper near his ear.

“I know it doesn’t make it better, and it probably doesn’t mean much from me, but… _I’m_ proud of you. Everyone here should be. Thank you, Sam.”

Sam was stunned into wide-eyed silence, a complex emotion fluttering in his chest. Five had really heard him. She’d really been listening, out there in the dark, and…it had mattered to her enough to remember.

Maybe that did make it a little bit better. For just a moment. That he’d mattered.

Five didn’t give him a chance to respond before stepping backward, breaking the connection. Still searching for a response, Sam noticed Five’s cap had been knocked askew. He reached automatically to straighten it but stopped himself at the last moment.

“That was how we found you, you know,” Sam blurted. “We could see the red on the monitors. Guess it’s a good thing you were wearing it tonight.”

Five looked stunned, reflexively touching the white star embroidered on the front of the hat. Then an incredulous smile spread across her face, and she pointed up at the radio tower, its light still blinking against the black sky.

“I guess red really _is_ a lucky color, then!” she laughed. Sam grinned back. There was a beat before there was a suppressed “Awww,” behind Five.

Five whirled around, suddenly aware of the row of spectators that had been watching the whole exchange. Pushing away her abrupt embarrassment, Five raised her voice to address them.

“Uh…hi, everyone. Sorry for all the commotion. But, I need you all to know that Sam Yao absolutely, without question, saved my life tonight. I was lost out there, and…well, hearing him on the comms kept me going. If I didn’t know he – that you all were here to come back to, that there was at least someone looking for me…” Five cleared her throat, which was painfully dry. “I don’t think I’d have made it if Sam hadn’t been there to bring me home.”

Five turned red as a wave of applause and congratulatory shouts rose from the small crowd. She hadn’t meant to express _quite_ so much emotion there, although Sam deserved the recognition. One or two men even stepped forward to clap an equally blushing Sam on the back. He stammered incoherently at the congratulations, becoming even more flustered when he caught Janine smirking at him from the edge of the group.

Cora moved through the commotion and gently turned Five by the shoulder. Five was wilting in earnest as the last dregs of adrenaline drained away, and Cora was afraid Five might pass out right there. Cora quickly whisked her roommate away from the commotion, motioning to the medical team and casting an appraising look back at Sam as they moved away. They left him there, smiling in the light of the radio tower.

“C’mon, Five. You probably need a whole lot more water and a good lie-down. It’s a shame,” Cora continued loudly as they reached the anxiously hovering med techs, “That nobody thought to bring a _stretcher_. Now you’ve got to _walk_ all the way back, after being out in the cold for _hours_ …”

Later, Five barely remembered allowing Cora to half-lead, half-support her to the clinic, or the steady stream of encouraging chatter. At some point, Cora sent soneone to go fetch Rowan, which did spark a nervous twinge that Five did not have the brainpower to deal with just then. The only thing clear to Five through the haze of cold exhaustion was that she was back. She was finally home.


	9. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five has returned safely from the events of Voice in the Dark, but she hadn't exactly left things on the best note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after S1M7. 
> 
> Content warnings: minor injury, blood, needles, hospital visit, stitches, mention of gunfire, hypervigilance, and canon-typical horror/violence.

_Early morning, day 14 in Abel Township_

Five sat uncomfortably on a cot in the tiny clinic, trying to fight the thrumming fatigue begging her to lie down and sleep. Cora flitted around gathering disinfectants and bandages for Five’s injuries, equally eager to return them both to bed.

Now that Five had finally stopped running, she could feel the fear and impact of what she’d been through seep into her mind like a fog. She really could have died out there. It was a miracle she’d only run into a few zoms, or that she hadn’t caught a bullet at the beginning. Five rubbed the antiseptic pad against the scrape on her arm harder, letting the cleansing stinging remind her she was fine, that she was here. In fact, she’d escaped with very few injuries, compared to the glass she’d had to pick out of her side from the helicopter crash.

Two unlikely survivals in two weeks. Five was wondering if that was par for the course in the post-apocalypse when a shuffling sound from the front of the room flung her nerves back on edge. She strained to hear what it was, even though Cora hadn’t seemed to notice.

Someone had dragged a bleary-eyed Maxine out of bed. As she plodded her way through the clinic, Five could hear her lightly complaining to the med tech that had fetched her.

“Look, I know we’re all very concerned about Runner Five, and I would have been too, if I was _awake_! But really, it was only a few hours. I’m sure with some fluids and rest and she’ll be fine. You are all more than capable…”

Maxine trailed off as Cora, who had been fussing over Five directly in Maxine’s sightline, moved away from the bed to grab a fresh rag. A dark trail of blood ran down Five’s right leg, and there was fresh red on her cheek as well.

Maxine modulated her tune. “Okay, some rest _and a couple of stitches_ and she’ll be alright,” she conceded.

Five pulled the blanket up over her knee as if to hide it from Maxine. “Hi, Doctor Myers,” she said sheepishly, realizing the childishness of her actions, but feeling just a little bit like she had the right. All she really wanted to do was slink off and sleep.

Maxine stifled a sigh and tried to smile brightly at Five. She hadn’t actually been aware the new runner had been missing before she’d gone to bed, not usually being looped into the runners’ comms, but she was glad all had ended well.

“It’s good to see you back, Runner Five. I’ll need to take a look at you, but Cora, you had better fetch a suture pack and some anesthetic gel,” Maxine said.

Cora smugly handed Maxine a cloth-wrapped set of tools she’d set on the table.

Five tucked her knee closer to her chest as Cora pulled the sheet away. “Look, Dr. Myers, I appreciate all the attention, but it had stopped bleeding just fine until we started poking at it. I’m sure it’ll heal by itself.”

“Well, sure,” Maxine said unconcernedly, leaning forward to examine the depth of the cut beneath Five’s knee. “It’ll heal eventually, but there’ll be a decent scar without stitches. And it’s really not a problem to fix, we’ve got plenty of thread. We’re not exactly doing many surgeries these days.” Maxine unwrapped the tools and casually selected a needle.

Five eyed the needle warily, and her anxiety deepened for a couple of reasons. She knew about survivorship bias; there weren’t many surgeries these days because most injuries were too severe for them to do any good. Pushing that morbid thought away, Five thought for a moment.

“Well, at least don’t waste anesthetic on it. Y’all have better things to use it on,” she said at last, settling more firmly into slang in the presence of another American even though she wasn’t southern.

Maxine pursed her lips. “It’s going to hurt without it.”

“Yeah, well, so did falling in a ditch and then running for three hours,” Five said a little irritably. “Go ahead, I probably won’t die.”

Cora’s attempt to arch an eyebrow at Five was interrupted by the sound of the clinic door slamming open. Five jumped so badly she yanked her leg out of Maxine’s grip and had the other foot on the floor before she could stop herself. Maxine spun around as well, looking for the medical emergency, but Rowan was decidedly uninjured as she flung herself across the room and over to the group. 

Rowan came to a sudden halt beside Five’s bed as she realized she had no idea what to do now.

Five and Rowan stared at each other, and Cora watched them carefully. Relief and remorse hung on Rowan’s face, but Five’s shoulders were tense with hurt and anger. Silence settled over the group like a wet blanket.

After about five seconds, Maxine cleared her throat to break the awkwardness. “Runner Five, if you would please _try_ to sit still.”

“Sorry,” Five muttered, resetting herself back on the bed and examining the thin sheets with more intensity than strictly necessary.

Cora began wrapping the scrapes on Five’s arms in a single layer of gauze. Rowan seized the opportunity to move around the bed to help hand her supplies, but remembered she’d been holding something else. Rowan thrust a small half-dome of plastic in front of Five’s face.

“You like these, right?” she asked stiffly.

Five’s eyebrows shot up as she registered the offering of diced peaches. “I…yeah, I do,” she answered. “How did you know?”

Maxine took Five’s surprise as an opportunity to swipe a pad with a little numbing gel on her patient’s knee. Five threw her a pseudo-accusatory look.

Rowan shrugged, turning to search for some unrequested piece of medical equipment. “I mean, we eat together, like, all the time. Some of us actually pay attention.”

Five blinked at Rowan’s back, expression softening. “Thanks, Rowan,” she said quietly. “That was really nice of you.”

Cora smiled significantly at Rowan, who shot a warning scowl in return. Unaware of this exchange, Five peeled the film away from the top of the cup of fruit and tipped some of the syrup into her mouth, suddenly realizing how hungry she was. That is, until Maxine took the opportunity to start in with the needle. Five’s grip on the plastic tightened, and she tried very hard to focus on that instead of the uncomfortable sensation thread sliding through skin. She caught a glimpse of the needle and turned to examine something on the far wall.

Maxine finished her work quickly. It was a relatively simple gash and only required a few stitches. Nobody said anything else until after she tied off the knot and pressed the antiseptic pad against her handiwork. Once again, she had to break the silence.

“Runner Five, do you know what you fell on? This laceration’s pretty deep, and I’m worried about infection.”

“It wasn’t a zombie,” Five answered quickly. “It was just, like, an irrigation ditch. I probably hit a stone or something. There was a lot of litter and a few farm tools in there as well, so it could have been one of those, I guess?”

Maxine frowned. “So there’s at least a chance there was rusted metal in there? Even a rusty nail?”

Five nodded reluctantly.

“Tetanus?” Cora asked Maxine, incongruently earnest.

“Might as well,” Maxine replied. “Runner Five, have you gotten a tetanus shot in the last five years?”

“I don’t think so?”

“Alright, we’re going to give you a booster, just in case. I’m _this_ close to just giving them to all runners preemptively, anyway.” Maxine started walking towards the supply room in the back, seizing the opportunity to give the girls some obviously-needed privacy to clear the air.

The three watched her go before glancing at one another. Cora was bursting to say something to ease the tension but didn’t know Five well enough to know what to say. Five had resumed making short work of the fruit Rowan had brought, seeing it as good a stalling mechanism as it was a snack.

“So…what happened?” Rowan eventually asked, kicking at the tile floor with the toe of one sneaker. She never could take the silence.

“Fell into an irrigation ditch,” Five answered neutrally. The pair was stepping around the thin ice beneath them.

“…You fell in a ditch, and that’s why you were missing outside the walls for half the night?” Rowan asked cautiously.

“No! I mean yes, sort of. The ditch was how I hurt my knee. But first I got shot at, which kind of started the whole thing.” Again Five stopped as if that was an adequate explanation.

“You _WHAT?!”_ Rowan and Cora exclaimed in chorus.

“…New Canton started shooting at me?”

“You can’t just _SAY_ things, Five!” Cora yelled.

“Yeah, back up! Whole story, _now_ ,” Rowan demanded, loudly dragging a chair over to sit beside the bed, friction temporarily forgotten.

A corner of Five’s mouth quirked up sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry, sorry. Okay, so I was _supposed_ to be on a normal supply mission, my first solo one, only it turned out that I was _actually_ headed near New Canton.”

“Why were you anywhere near those jerkwads?” Rowan scowled.

“Really wish I could tell ya, but…I wasn’t exactly given the details ahead of time, if you know what I mean. So studied the wrong maps, right, because _someone_ told me I was going somewhere else. By the time I’m close to New Canton, I’m totally reliant on Sam for directions…”

Rowan was riveted, while Cora looked faintly horrified. Both reactions only seemed to egg Five on, and she moved from a matter-of-fact debrief to full storytelling mode, detailing the closeness of the gunfire at New Canton with the kind of swagger reserved for events long over. Five’s emphatic hand gestures also served to achieve her secondary goal of stalling Cora’s fidgety attempt to hook Five up to half a bag of saline. Cora gave up when Five pointedly grabbed the water bottle next to the bed, although she did use it as a prop before taking a swig.

But after retelling her daring escape from heavy artillery and the plunge that left her headset and hopes shattered, Five’s tone grew more somber and her gaze more distant. Even an audience couldn’t tear Five’s mind away from the still-fresh dread of being lost in the dark.

“So, uh.” Five began to trail off after detailing the trio of zombies at the creek. “If Sam hadn’t kept talking over the comms, I’d probably still be in the forest, looking for the beacon.”

“Hence the speech at the radio tower,” Cora said, trying to lift the mood a little.

“…That may have been a bit dramatic,” Five muttered.

“Well, I’m sure Sam appreciated it. It must have been a long night for him, what with directing the search party as well,” Cora said leadingly, sticking a small bandaid to the cut on Five’s cheek.

“…The _what_?” Five asked slowly.

Rowan wouldn’t meet anyone’s gaze.

“When you didn’t come back, Rowan volunteered to go out looking for you. And,” here Cora gave Rowan a sour look, “apparently had to be _dragged_ back in after it got too dark.”

Rowan glared at Cora, but Five was staring wide-eyed at the two of them, a look of distress creeping over her face.

“You went out _looking_ for me?” Five asked in a small voice.

Rowan looked at Five as if she’d asked if they’d ever tried running _away_ from the zombies. “Yeah? You went off comms and nobody knew where you were,” she huffed. At Five’s continued baffled stare, Rowan furrowed her brow in offense. “Did you think we wouldn’t even _try_?”

“I don’t see why you _would!_ ” Five cried.

Cora wanted very badly to facepalm. This wasn’t going well.

“Why on _earth_ would you put yourself in so much _danger_ , Rowan?” Five sounded actually angry now. “Did you just go running off by yourself with no idea where I was?”

“No!” Rowan was getting louder. “We have a protocol for this, Rachel. Me, and Runner Eight, and Twelve, and of course Seven—”

“They volunteered for our standard search party, Five,” Cora broke in impatiently. “I told you, we were worried. Rowan was practically beside herself—”

“We don’t just leave one of our runners out after dark, alright?” Rowan snapped, glowering at Cora. “Not at Abel. Look, I don’t care what you think. As long as you’re running for us, you’re _one of_ us. Maybe that’s not the way at Mullins, but you’re here now.”

Five had gone quiet. She’d balled the sheets up in her fists and gone still, staring fixedly at the back of her injured knee. The look of misery on her face deflated Rowan’s defensiveness.

Rowan glanced at Cora for a cue, shamefaced. Cora tilted her head slightly towards Five, urging Rowan on. “Look. I’m sorry about what I said. I crossed a line. I didn’t mean—” 

“No, _I’m_ sorry,” Five broke in, voice thin and wavering. “I’m so sorry.”

“…for what?” Cora prompted, confused by the change in mood.

“I…I don’t know,” Five answered in a frustrated rush. “For…worrying you. For putting people in danger looking for me. For all the trouble I’ve caused, taking up medical resources for the second time in two weeks. For…not acting like I’m part of Abel now.”

Five looked nervously at her roommates as if waiting for someone to contradict her. “I just…it’s the apocalypse, you know? I’m not even from Mullins, so they got rid of me pretty quick. And the only reason Abel even let me in was because of some files I managed to grab running from some zoms.” Five glanced in the direction Maxine had left, but saw no sign of the physician. “So, you weren’t wrong. I _was_ being dismissive, even though you all were so kind to me, and I shouldn’t have—”

“I still shouldn’t have had a go at you,” Rowan interrupted. “I know I fly off the handle sometimes. I worked so hard to get into the runners, and…a lot of places, and I just put it all on you. But you still didn’t deserve any of what I said.”

“Rowan, I don’t care about what you said.” Five’s tone was earnest. “I mean, it sucked, yeah. And it was weirdly targeted, seeing as we’ve only known each other a couple weeks. But Rowan,” Five shook her head incredulously. “I care more about what you _did_. You risked your life for me, which is terrifying, but…I can’t say how much that means. You’ve both been better friends to me than I deserve.”

Rowan gaped, unsure how to respond. But Cora put a hand on Five’s shoulder, and Five looked up at her with a hopeful expression.

“Not better than you deserve, Rachel,” Cora said, beaming. “But we _are_ your friends. Right, Ro?”

“Yeah,” Rowan answered solemnly. “If you want.”

“Are you kidding?!” Five squeaked, to overcome to care if she was being cheesy. “Yes, _please_!” With a teary laugh, Five surged up to her knees to throw an arm around her roommates’ shoulders, dragging them forward for a quick hug. She’d forgotten about her bad knee, though, and she flopped down almost immediately with a comical wince.

Rowan and Cora burst out laughing, and after a moment, Five joined them in relief.

They were still laughing when Maxine returned with a capped syringe in one rubber-gloved palm. She was relieved at the renewed atmosphere between the trio. It was three in the morning and she didn’t really have the energy to try to mediate anyway.

With one last jab and profuse thanks from Five to Maxine, Five was finally released with instructions to stay off the leg as much as she could for a few days. The roommated began the slow trek towards the runner’s dorms. Rowan waited outside the shower building, drowsily watching the shadows of guards on the wall while Cora fetched Five some clothes. It wasn’t long before the small runner staggered out, wet-haired and exhausted, baseball cap dangling from limp fingers. There wasn’t much conversation on the way home.

Rowan unlocked the door to Room 42 and pushed it open, barely toeing out of her sneakers before flopping onto her bed. Cora sat down on her own bunk with a tired sigh.

Five had stopped in the hall to pick up her backpack, which had been left leaning against the doorframe. The index card with “5” drawn on it in red marker was already looking worse for wear, and without the electronics, the bag was pitifully empty. Five stepped into the room, unzipping its top and shifting the bundle of dirty running clothes under her arm as if to dump them inside. Before she finished the motion, though, she hesitated. With one decisive movement, she turned and pulled open the empty drawer of the dresser to her left, dumping the laundry into it unceremoniously. She pretended not to notice Rowan and Cora’s eyes on her as she fished out her comb, ran it through her hair, and set it on the dresser. Finally, Five crossed the room to haul herself up the broken ladder to her bunk. She paused at the top to hang her cap on one of the end posts before looking down.

“Good night, you guys. Thank you.”

Cora and Rowan returned the greeting, all three women smiling at one another before Cora stood to turn off the light. Room 42 was reunited, and its residents asleep within minutes.

A few evenings later, there was a little extra excitement around dinner throughout Abel. Cora had picked up Five’s shifts in the kitchen to let her spend more time off her feet, and had managed to call in a few favors to influence the menu.

A deep, savory, meaty scent beckoned from the cafeteria yard as Five and Rowan arrived.

“Is that beef?” Five aked excitedly. “I think that’s the first time since I’ve been here!”

Rowan sped up the last few yards to the door, clearly just as enthusiastic as Five. The pair rushed in to claim their servings and their seats. They joined a table full of other runners, squeezing side by side into a gap at the center that had clearly been left for them. With a dismissive wave from one of the other attendants, Cora came off the line to join them with a bowl of her own, collecting praise and calls of thanks as she crossed the cafeteria and nestled in next to her girlfriend, who had chosen a seat roughly across from Five.

“Cora’s famous for her beef and dumpling stew,” Rowan explained, scooping a bite of each on her spoon. “There’s only a little bit of meat, and it’s probably been dried, but she does something to it that makes it taste pre-Z.”

“One of these days, you have _got_ to tell us how you do it,” Sam chimed in, mouth full. He was a few seats to Cora’s right, and was slightly awkwardly trying to ignore the public display of attention at his elbow. Five caught his gaze smiled shyly before turning her attention to her own meal. Rowan was right; if not for an unusually chewy texture, she would have believed the chunks of beef were fresh. And the dumplings were delicately strewn with fresh herbs. Five closed her eyes just a moment to savor the taste.

When she looked up, Runner Eight was weaving through the tables in front of her. She paused for half a moment near the runner’s table, giving Five an appraising look. Five could do nothing but give her a single nod and make a note to thank her later. Even if Five was sure Eight thought she would turn out to be some sort of traitor, Eight had still gone out with the search party. Maybe Five needed to trust the people around her a little more.

In fact, when Five looked around the table, she realized that most of the faces had become familiar. Runner Three was causing some sort of commotion at one end of the table, as usual. Jody was chattering animatedly into the gentle din of the cafeteria. The whole place was packed with people sharing their lives in a world that had grown frighteningly foreign, and Five couldn't help but be impressed by all they had accomplished together. And of course, there were her roommates, smiling and sharing a meal that really did taste like home.

 _Yeah,_ Five thought. _I’m glad to be home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends the first arc of Cap Five and the Roommates! I can't believe it's been so many weeks (and words) since I decided to narrate "just the first couple of weeks at Abel" for my Five. But since I've given this a series title, you can probably guess how that's going...
> 
> I'll be continuing the Roommates' stories with interpretations true to my own initial reactions while running through ZR for the first time (since I still am) in a new fic, just to keep the chapter index from getting too unwieldy.
> 
> If you've made it this far, thank you, and thank you again. You are why I had the nerve to post this in the first place. I hope you're enjoying being on this journey with me!


End file.
